I am here
by bagheera
Summary: AU The rescue is just a delusion Ralph had when his mind snapped during the hunt. 4 years later, still on the island, he recovers from his madness and has to face the painful truth of growing up. Jack/Ralph. COMPLETE
1. Intangible

Summary: AU – The boys have not been rescued – this was just a delusion Ralph had when his mind couldn't withstand the pressure anymore during the hunt. 

4 Years later, still on the island, Ralph slowly recovers from his madness with the help of Jack, who has made the madman his possession. 

This is about growing up. How do children with no parents as examples grow into adults? 

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. And I'm not sure if I'd even want these psycho-kids....

Warnings: The usual violence. Not very graphic. Slash? I'm not sure. Not for chapter one, for latter chapters though. 

*****************

I AM HERE

Prologue

__

With a last triumphant war-cry Jack broke through the layer of foliage, the glorious leader who has driven his prey into a corner – and came to an abrupt halt.

Next to him Roger broke out of the forest, and Robert and Maurice. More and more of the children hunters stopped behind them, all of them falling into a sudden silence. 

And in the first light of morning, Ralph stood on the beach, only some steps away, and laughed, and cried. Ralph stood in the sand, half naked and thin and bloody, and laughing and crying he turned around to the frozen hunters. And his eyes, though they were shining with life, didn't seem to see them. 

"We're saved!" Ralph cried.

Jack started forward and the others raised their spears again, but then he changed his mind and stood still. 

"We're saved!" Ralph fell to his knees and sobbed and pointed towards an empty horizon. And he laughed with the pain and joy of a madman. 

1 Intangible 

Sixteen by now. Is he? The fair-haired one in the shadows wonders. Jack says they are. He'd like to know that. A shame that they never counted the days. Now time is evasive and just like a dream, even less tangible than the dreams of hope and a fairy-tale world called 'home'. 

If he was sixteen, then it had been four years. Four years of which he couldn't tell if he had spent awake and all the rest of his life but a dream, or if he'd spent them living a nightmare in a unreal dimension of hell. 

A hell in which blinding light seeped through every pore and in which the darkness bore the shadows but the day was even worse. 

What makes them smile? 

What makes Jack smile?

He knows why he cried, and he has stopped crying long ago. 

But he does not know a single reason for smiling, when you are living in hell. 

It was always a little smile that crept over Jack's lips, when he climbed with the long and powerful strides of the well-trained hunter the last few steps of the slope. Four years of running wild in the forest, of fighting and killing of ruling his people with the power of strength and violence have made him a bundle of muscles. Long gone is the tall and sinewy pre-teen. With a swift turn of his head he could see the whole island, laying peaceful in the glittering desert of water. His land. His kingdom. 

With a satisfied grin, he leapt up the final step and burst into the wooden hut were once the first signal fire burned. 

Under the roof of dried palm branches was his home. He had lived here and ruled from here nearly three years. After 'The Hunt' – which is what the boys call it now, in awe – he resided in castle rock for a while, but now, that they lived in peace, playing war and army was no longer fun. With Ralph caught and obviously stark raving mad, the opposition was gone and he was the unquestioned Chief. 

After a while he was tired of the smelly damp cave and he ordered his hunters to build a new shelter on the top of the mountain. And that was where he stayed. He wasn't alone. Most of the boys lived somewhere near by. Only some of the littluns lived elsewhere. They were a strange little folk, some of them more animal than human. 

But this hut was without question the biggest and best on the whole island. It had an little cooking fire and pigskins to sleep on, and it held all the dear and important possessions Jack had. 

Jack had quite some precious things. First was his knife, the most dangerous weapon and the most important tool on the island. He always carried it at his side, never let go of it, even in his sleep. Then there was his small collection of spears, all well sharpened and ready for hunting. Upon a small bile of wood rested the second most important tool on the island : an old pair of broken specs. Hidden under the pigskins was something else, something that had no obvious use but yet Jack wouldn't let go of it. Old, dusty and dirty but still recognisable was the black cap that once, long ago had belonged to a little choir boy. 

But none of them was as strange and wondrous, as troubling and painfully reminding of the old days as his last, most precious possession. None of them he hated and loved more. None of them is as meaningful as Ralph. 

At the moment Ralph was but a little bundle huddled on the pigskins in the darkest part of the hut. Only a nearly white shock of hair and a scarred pair of fists is visible. 

Jack frowns while eating his meat. Really, none of his precious things is as troubling as Ralph. 

In the four years since The Hunt he has only partly recovered from his insanity. His suddenly snapping mind has probably saved his life, then. When they caught him, he was far away, babbling and laughing and crying something about being rescued by a cruiser. He had been so strange and helpless and all... after the first shock, the heat of the hunt had cooled down and nobody would kill him now. 

But he was strange and frightening, a madman among them and something had to be done about him. Even if Jack was angry and somehow repelled by the raving boy, he decided that nobody should touch him. And in the aftermath he had seen how great a decision this had been. Because the show of mercy had brought him awe and admiration from the boys, even more than a killing could ever have. And so he had unwillingly made a step into the right direction. 

So he had tied him up and held him as a captive in his cave. And after a while Ralph had calmed down. Step by step Jack had come to understand his delusions: that a cruiser with English naval officers had come to save them. But now and then, a glimpse of the old Ralph could be seen, sometimes only for a moment, sometimes for minutes and hours, when he was back on the island and accepting his fate. This contradiction was fascinating for the boy who had become ruler and so he had once again felt himself drawn to the fair-haired one. 

The time – years by now – went by slowly and unnoticeably, one sunny day melting into another. Jack moved to hill, but nothing else changed much. Once or twice one of the littluns died or vanished, but nobody really cared much. Everyone lived quiet, and almost peaceful, forgetting the days of war and hope for rescue. Long ago they had stopped building signal fires. They lived happily and undisturbed in their own little world, with their on little rules. Happily ever after. 

Jack grunted. Happily ever after had never been his cup of tea. A born leader he was, and he needed something to occupy his mind. 

"Ralph." 

No response came from the hunch on the skins. 

"Ralph!" he said in a commanding voice. 

No response.

He crawled over to the boy and shook his shoulder.

"Hey! Don't play dead. I got you some meat." He waved it above his head. 

"Hello? Someone in there?"

A hand shot out and grabbed the meat, and then the other boy slowly got into a sitting position. Like an animal he ripped out a big chunk of meat and began chewing, all the while wearily watching his owner. 

Jack also watched him. Ralph had not grown as much as he had himself, but he was still tall. He was also horribly thin and weak, although his state had already been much worse than now. His fair and tangled hair fell over his shoulders in a long mane and of all the boys he was the palest. Even Roger with his naturally pallid complexion was bronzed compared to Ralph who had spent nearly all the time in the shadows of this hut. 

He still wore the most rutty old pair of shorts and one of the pigskins around his shoulders as if he was cold. 

His eyes, which could shine with the feverish quality of a true madman were at the moment only a weak, somehow distant blue. 

"How was the day?" 

This one, sane and normal question caught Jack off guard. 

"Good," he answered without thinking.

"Good," repeated Ralph and licked his lips thoughtfully. 

"Yes," said Jack.

No further response came from Ralph. 

"How was your day?" asked Jack, desperately trying to keep the conversation alive.

"Good."

"Good?" Jack really didn't understand this guy. How could a day spent lying in the shadow and being mad be good?

"Yes. I have come to a conclusion."

"A conclusion?" Jack was growing more and more confused. 

"Yes. I am mad."

Jack stared.

"Y.. yes," he managed. "We already knew that."

"I am having delusions of this place. I believe I live on an island with other boys, playing in the wilderness. But this is not true, this is but a dream..."

Jack bolted to his feet and began shaking the boys frail shoulders furiously.

"You are here!"

" You are here you thrice damned moron! This is real! This is reality and nothing else! I am reality!! You are here!!", he yelled at him. 

Ralph was slack in his hands and didn't make a sound to protest.

He shook him more violently.

"This is real! Do you hear me? This is real!!"

Watery eyes looked solemnly at him when he finally stopped. With a crooked smile Ralph shook his head.

"No. It is not."

" But I've come to accept it. I can't escape this madness. I can't go back to sanity. Every time I try to reach it, truth becomes more evasive. This dream is the only reality I have. So I will live it."

"I am here," he sighed. 


	2. Inevitable

Warnings: This chapter contains stuff that may be disturbing to some people. It deals with sexual stuff that in a way is non-con. I don't think you can call it slash because.. you'll see. 

2 Inevitable 

Exhausted by his sudden outburst Ralph slumped back onto the skins. Jack still looked baffled.

"So you are... going to be.. sane again?" he asked in an unbelieving voice. 

Ralph considered this for a moment. He then smiled and nodded. He had had to remind himself that for Jack, this was all so real, that accepting it meant to be sane. 

"Oh," said Jack.

"Oh," he repeated in a lack for better words.

"Then... well... good night!" He turned around and after once more looking after the fire he went to sleep. A typical Jack reaction, thought Ralph. Something is troubling? Something requires thinking? Ignore it. 

While Jack who had been running and working all day was fast asleep, Ralph lay sleepless in the dark of the shelter. Through little gaps between the palm branches of their roof he could see the way of the pale moon's brightness over the sky. He could listen to the breathing of the world. He felt quiet. Exhausted. Strangely real and awake.

It were the hours of night, when he lay sleepless and watched the far-away sky, when Ralph felt the most real. When his existence and the existence of others was clear and understandable. He liked the cool moonlight, but he never sneaked out to watch it, because he only felt comfortable in the relative security of the hut. They're wasn't really anything out there, but there was the wilderness and in here was at least a faint trace of civilisation, if only a roof of palm branches. 

If this was a delusion, he thought to himself, it was at least quite logically build up. For example Jack. The longer Ralph thought about the Chief, the more it became clear to him that every single of his actions, seemingly chaotically and irrational, followed their own logic. 

He understood that all the happenings had been predetermined by the fact that Jack was Jack and Jack was only a boy suddenly on his own. Jack wasn't dumb, but he didn't have the insight Ralph had. 

Jack had always been the leader. Probably the best in choir, and also the oldest. Jack was jealous. And because he was just a boy – how could he have been something more? – he acted it out and his jealousy was the most important thing in the world.

The Chief had done what his emotions had told him, his natural instinct. And in a world of wilderness, instinct had won over rational thinking and Jack had won over Ralph. 

Jack wasn't animal. Jack wasn't cruel, not more than any of them. 

Just a kid. 

Ralph remembered the time when Jack couldn't kill that first pig.

Just a kid. 

It wasn't Jack who wasn't normal. It was Ralph. Ralph who acted more like and adult than like the child he was. 

And instinct had won. 

And without any adults as their examples, they never grew up. Jack still thought much like the twelve-year-old he had been.

He looked nearly like man, now, with strong build and face that had lost nearly all of it's boyish look. He had already lost the awkwardness of a teenager in the last months. The bony choir boy had gone. Hormones. You might have expected they would make them even more crazy, even wilder. But not much of that had shown. Not much. 

It had been predictable as well. With the coming of adolescence, the hormones came. Some of the boys were slower, some faster. Jack had been one of the first, whose voice broke and whose body became more angular. There were no parents so comfort and lead them. There were no women or girls at which they could direct their seemingly pointless new emotions. 

As a boy, nearly at the back of his head Ralph had heard talking about this, shamefully, hushed. He had one older brother, already a college boy, who had told him things, shown him pictures of women... 

There had also been a doctor, once, not long before the island, who had asked him, very shamefully, if he had already had .. 'dreams'. 'Disturbing' or 'exciting' dreams. He had not. But he believed to know, now, what the doctor had meant, then.

It had been in nights like these, when he lay awake and watching Jack, that he first noticed. Jack suddenly became restless in his sleep, turning and making sounds, like in a nightmare and yet not quite like in a nightmare. 

Sometimes he woke sweaty and panting and looked around in confusion. Sometimes he crawled out of the hut to vanish for a short time. 

And once he had seen him touching himself...

These strange and intimate happenings should have been embarrassing to Ralph. He knew that. But they were just as unreal and remote as all the rest. 

Until the day, when Jack turned to him in his restless sleep. 

He had one of these dreams again, Ralph could tell. 

He tossed and turned and made sounds like in pain, moaning sounds... Ralph tried to get out of his reach and slid further to the wall of the hut. 

But the room was small, and soon the wall was close. No space to escape the restless sleeper. 

So Ralph started to slide down, tried to worm his way around Jack and out of the corner. 

He could have woken him.

He could have jumped up and run away.

He could have screamed. 

But it was impossible. It was impossible to do anything but try to retreat further into the tiny space that was still left. 

And then the searching hands finally met him, travelling over his body. 

Ralph's thoughts were paralysed. 

One of the sweaty arms wrapped around him and drew him closer to Jacks body, just like an embrace. But Jack still seemed asleep and unconscious of his own actions. 

Ralph tried to turn around, desperate not to have his face towards the sleeper. 

But even in his sleep Jack's grip was strong and firm and it became even stronger, nearly stifling the fair-haired boy. 

The sounds of the night became suddenly loud, the breathing at his neck was screaming and the air became thick as water. He didn't even dare to whimper as one hand sneaked down his back and further...

Like the beasts of night would get him if he made a single sound.

Ralph squeezed his eyes shut and make a sobbing sound. His breath came hard and laboured, as always when he had memories like this. 

That night was one of the memories. 

The Hunt was one of the memories. 

Simon's death.

Piggy's death. 

But still, that night was the least understandable of all.

Nothing had really happened, actually. Just Jack, touching him with awkward hands in his sleep, and making these sounds and then, after an eternity of terror he just turned round and slept on. 

But with the feeling of these fingers still down there, lingering, Ralph felt more violated than he ever could have if anything had really happened.

It was even worse, because he was the only one who knew than something like that had happened at all. 

Now, this night lay in the past, and was only a blurred memory. 

And Ralph did not hate Jack for it. He did not hate Jack for anything. He never had. First he had been shocked by Jack's actions, then helpless, then frightened, then he had gone mad and now he accepted and understood. 

It had had to happen, inevitably.

Because they were boys, just boys. 

Just because they were lonely on an island, it didn't mean that they hadn't got to face the terrors of growing up. 

Even Jack had, and if it was unconsciously.


	3. Pure Morning

3 Pure morning 

Jack always woke with the birds. The noisy, once strange but now familiar island birds. He had once envied them, for they had wings to flee this world and he had not. But now... he knew inwardly, that he didn't want to be rescued. He would.. could never adjust to civilisation again. 

He stretched and looked around. Everything was still in place, and Ralph slept soundlessly, curled to a little ball in the corner of the hut. He took one of the coconut halves he owned and drank the rest of water inside. 

Then he went out into the dawn. The sky was still grey, colourless in the absence of day and night. Dew glistened in the grass and his feet became wet with every step. 

No one was up yet. For a moment the birds became so silent, that he could hear the sea brushing on the beach. 

It was as if he was all alone in a world without people.

At this thought his chest became painfully tight. Fear and a long lost desire to be hold, to be protected, to be a child again, rose in him. He wanted to scream and curl up on the ground like Ralph did. But Jack stood without motion, without a sound, until the birds sung again and the moment was gone. 

He turned on his heels and went back into the hut. Ralph had woken up and sat, with his eyes still sleepy on his pigskin. 

"'morning. "

"'morning, Jack," he said with a clear voice. 

"So... are you..?"

"Alright? Sane?"

"...yes."

Ralph considered for a moment, than he smiled his weak, unpractised smile again.

"I think so."

For a moment Jack wondered. How could Ralph just decide to be sane again and then be it? Had all this only been a genius trick to save his life? Anger welled in him, old, well known anger at the one boy on this island who could be a patch on him, no who even was better. For he had always had the feeling, deep inside him, that gnawing doubt, that told him 'Ralph is the clever one. Ralph was right. You are only the big savage, but he is the true leader...'. 

Still standing in the centre of the room he glared at the boy – and froze. 

Ralph looked up at him, with blue eyes without a clue, innocent and helpless to the core. No. There could not be a lie in that look. Because it was not a look that said 'Trust me'. It was a look that said 'I trust you.'

But instead of relieving him, it made him feel even worse. He felt so stupid. He resented being who he was, doing what he had done, feeling what he had felt... 

Swiftly he turned around and with a gruff voice he asked:

"So... do you want to come to the river?"

Normally Jack would just make him go there, once in a while, to wash himself up, as he said. It was always difficult to make the deranged boy leave the shelter of the hut and walk all the way down to the little river, and normally he had to use brute force to accomplish the task. This would be test if Ralph was really cured, but he also wanted to get rid of his bad emotions.

"To the river?" Ralph looked nervous. He hated leaving this place. And the river was really far away.

But he slowly rose to his feet and nodded.

"Yes. I'll come."

"Alright." Jack stepped out into the slowly rising morning sun. And carefully, very carefully, Ralph followed him. He blinked.

The word was blazing with a pure morning sun, blinding him in it's splendour. And it was peaceful and beautiful. It felt painfully real in it's beauty, and Ralph wanted to flee back into the shadows to ensure himself that this was only a delusion. 

His gaze fell on Jack, who stood there, waiting, uneasy. He looked behind him, at the hut. 

"Ralph?"

"Yes.. yes.. I am here..," he whispered. He looked at Jack, and then at the island. 

"I am here," he said loudly. 

They walked slowly, a lot slower than Jack usually would, because Ralph was still a bit unpractised in walking that much and often tripped over creepers and stones. But with every step he became more confident, and when Jack began whistling a tune, he laughed for what seemed and probably was the first time in four years.

When they reached the beach the sun had already risen some feet over the horizon and the sea was sparkling with light. For a moment Ralph just stood there and breathed. 

Jack looked at him and what he saw, reminded him...

__

And in the first light of morning, Ralph stood on the beach, only some steps away, and laughed, and cried. Ralph stood in the sand, half naked and thin and bloody, and laughing and crying he turned around to the frozen hunters. And his eyes, though they were shining with life, didn't seem to see them. 

He angrily shook his head. There was no need to feel remorse now..

Ralph turned around and saw the other boy lost in thought.

"Jack?" he asked.

Jack snapped out of it.

"Huh."

"Are you coming?"

They climbed the platform and finally reached the pool. Ralph remembered a little boy, squealing in delight, as he plunged into the water...

Now he carefully dipped one foot into the water, very much like Piggy, once...

Jack had already stripped himself of all clothes and now glided into the water with the elegance of a wild animal. He dived and swum some metres and then came back with a happy smile on his face that made him seem unusually youthful.

"Come on!" he shouted with childlike enthusiasm. 

Very slowly and with awkward motions he stepped out of his shorts, standing naked at the same place he had stood years ago. Once a boy just escaped childhood, he was now a teen nearly welcoming adulthood. But he was also thin, and scarred and obviously weakened and bent by the years of madness and refinement. 

He lingered at the edge and was unsure how to protrude. 

Jack, who was getting tired of waiting suddenly dived out of the water, grabbed his right leg and pulled. With a surprised scream Ralph fell over him and dashed into the water. 

Spitting water he came back to the surface only a second later. 

Jack laughed and hoped that he was still okay. 

The look that Ralph send him bore the most surprising emotion: Ralph was angry. At him. But then a grin spread on his fair features and he laughed, laughed with Jack and they laughed until all the pain and pressure of their lives seemed to have left their young bodies. 

It was strange, Jack thought, as he clung to the rocks while recovering from his laughing fit. It was strange, how now that Ralph seemed to get better with every minute, he also became even more precious. It was as if he had set himself a new task: Save this boy. 

He just didn't know why, and he didn't know how. 

"Jack?" Ralph asked when his breath was restored.

"Huh?"

"When you... that night.. when you hunted me.. why didn't you kill me?"

He looked at him out of troubled eyes. Jack felt a fierce blush on his cheeks and turned half away. 

"Well... I couldn't just... I mean.. we couldn't just kill a madman, could we?" He tried an unconvincing grin.

"But you could kill a child? No one child, but three children?"

"It was.. it was.."

"I know." Ralph looked away. 

Jack smashed his fist angrily into the ground. Why did Ralph always have to be so.. so.. 

"But we didn't kill since then!"

"Is that so? I'm afraid I haven't really paid attention the last 4 years," Ralph said with a tinge of sarcasm. 

"No one died. Well, beside some littluns.."

"The littluns.. they must be our age now... how are they?"

"Strange. They are... like animals.. you know.. we were like savages.. but they are like animals.. always in the forest.. and they don't talk much." He shrugged. 

"Don't you feel responsible for them?"

Jack blinked.

"They're just littluns."

"You sound like Roger," Ralph said sadly. 

For a moment they fell silent, the last words hanging like an accuse in the air. Then Jack swung out of the pool and put on his clothes again. Ralph looked up at him. Jack held out his hand to help him out. 

Ralph looked at the hand.

"I forgive you, Jack," he said.

"I forgive you. I have forgiven you long ago. I understand you. It was not your fault. It was nobody's fault." 

He took the hand.

"I know.. this means nothing to you.. and I am not the one to judge or forgive... but I do forgive you."

Jack stared at him.

Maybe he was angry at the boy that held his hand and looked at him with truthful eyes. Maybe he wanted to hit him across the face for being so impertinent. 'I forgive you'. Always so self-righteous! 

Look, Jack, I am civilised and I forgive the dumb barbarian!

But this wasn't it. 

Because Ralph's words were right. It was nobody's fault. 

He lifted the boy out of the water and turned away. He walked some steps and leaned on a palm. After a while he turned around again. 

Ralph stood there, dripping with water but dressed again and looked very out of place and helpless. 

He felt the sudden urge to protect him, to assure him that everything was alright. 

"You are angry," Ralph stated.

Jacks eyes widened. It seemed that they were open today for the first time at all. 

This boy.. had been his possession. He had hit this boy every time he was angry. He had treated him as a thing. But now there stood Ralph again.. and he realised that it had been a human being all along. 

It was always the same! When they had killed Simon, it had been because they had not seen him as a human being. When they had killed Piggy it had been because he had not been 'one of them'. When they had hunted Ralph it had been because he had no longer been a human being... 

But was it really that? 

They also forgot so often that they were human, too. 

They also forgot what it meant to be human. 

He clenched his fists. Ralph didn't make a move but his eyes were wide with fear.

"I.. I.. ." The words broke in Jack's chest.

"I am sorry."

__ __


	4. Forms Of Strength

Warnings: None for this chapter. 

Note: Btw, I'd like to excuse for any crude grammar of expressions. I'm not a native speaker, only a German student. 

4 Forms of strength

Ralph, who had unconsciously caught his breath when he had seen Jack tensing and clenching his fists, relaxed visibly. 

So the Chief of the children had finally said the words. Words that said 'I know what I have done. I understand what I have done.'

Ralph wondered. Where did the sudden insight come from? Was it just their little conversation that had opened the savage's eyes? Or had this realisation come with time, had it been dwelling inside the boy's mind for years, growing and finally breaking out? 

They stood in perfect silence, while the wind played with their wild hair and dried the water from their bodies. The soothing, never-ceasing sound of the little waves brushing against the shore cleared their minds of all what had been. 

Suddenly a voice tore them out of their peaceful understanding. 

"Ralph?" It was more of a shriek, a double-shriek. It came from the edge of the forest. Both boys turned around in surprised unison. 

Even though Ralph had not seen them for nearly all the time of his madness, he still recognised them instantly, those identical faces. Samneric. 

Samneric had grown into tall, muscular teens, nearly as big as Jack and both wore the same flabbergasted expression now. 

Jack started and began talking. 

"Samneric! Already up? What are you doing down here so early?"

He seemed nervous, even embarrassed to be caught with Ralph down here, all alone.

But the twins weren't listening. 

"Ralph?" 

Ralph smiled his new, crooked smile. 

"Good morning, Samneric," he said almost too politely. 

They stared at him and then turned to Jack who was looking nervously from them to Ralph. 

"Chief? Is he... we mean.. is he..?" The simple minds of those two had never really understood more than that Ralph had gone batty for some obscure reason and that nobody had to touch him as was the order of their Chief. 

But now, instinctively, the noticed the change. And it was most confusing and wondrous to them. 

Jack looked at Ralph who still stood at the same place, thin, pale, but with a new yet familiar confidence.

"Yes. Ralph is normal again."

The two gaped at him. 

"How?"

Jack shrugged. He become increasingly bored and irritated with those two. 

"No matter. Ralph?"

Ralph looked up. 

"Oh."

They headed for the mountain again, letting the baffled two where they were. 

The climb up the mountain was hard for Ralph. Soon he was breathing hard and had to rest. 

Gasping he said down on a little rock.

"Phew.. I feel like Piggy."

Jack laughed uneasily. 

"We'll rest for a while."

"But others will come. What will they say if they see us?"

Jack frowned. 

"I am the Chief. It doesn't matter what they say."

Ralph looked up to the redhead. 

"You are not wearing your mask today," he noticed. He had noticed it before, but only now he realised the significance. 

"I'm not going for a hunt, am I..."

"You used to wear it all the time."

"It seems you have rested enough for talking," Jack grunted.

"Samneric didn't wear a mask as well. Does anyone still wear them?"

Jack stopped. 

"Roger does. And most of us when we are hunting. It is necessary."

Then he turned around quickly and walked on. 

Ralph hurried to follow him. 

The heat became stronger. The buzzing of insects rose over the forest and Ralph tongue felt swollen and hot. His legs became shaky and he felt the sting of a sunburn. 

"Jack," he breathed.

The stubborn hunter didn't hear him.

"Jack!" he gasped weakly. 

Jack turned around. 

"What is it?"

"I... can't any more..."

Jack was impatient. 

"It isn't far."

"No, Jack, really.."

Jack scowled. 

Ralph looked at him from where he had slumped to the ground.

"Sorry."

It went surprisingly well. Jack himself hadn't known that he had become that strong, when he lifted the fair-haired boy up and carried him on his back like one would carry a little child. Ralph had wrapped his arms around his neck and after some minutes his head became heavier and finally rested against the broad shoulders. He hadn't known when he had become so tired...

When they reached the hut, Ralph was already asleep. Jack carefully bedded him on the pigskins and sat on his heels. He drank some of the fresh water one of the boys had brought him as it was their duty, and watched the sleeping boy. 

His head was spinning with thoughts as it hadn't been for a long time. 

When he had carried him up the mountain, he had felt strangely content. Hunting and killing had once been full of lust and ecstasy, and ruling his hunters had been satisfying. But there was always that hunger for more, that restlessness in his bones. But in that moment of content he had felt whole and strong. 

There was a strength in controlling people. But he had just discovered another form of strength and power, that was all the more amazing. The strength of caring and protecting, the strength of true responsibility. 


	5. Game

Warnings: Violence and mention of such. 

Note: Thanks for r&r! And yes, the third chapter's title is a Placebo song. Placebo is currently one of my favourites and this song is my personal favourite.

5 Game 

When Ralph woke again, the shelter was empty and the heat of day was cooling off into the sweet and abundant warmth of evening. He felt like floating, somewhere in a cloud of sleep and security and relaxation...

__

His feet stumbled into the hot sand and a soothing wind caught his sweaty, bloody, burning body. 

This can't be true.

This can't be true.

Because this had been a game!

A game...

Games weren't real.

Games were fun. You screamed and ran for your life – but it was only fun, and it was over when the game was over. 

It had all been a game.

A great, great game. 

A war game. 

A catch me if you can game. 

But a game had rules.

And blood was not part of the rules.

This can't be true. 

This can't be true. 

There must be ... yes... there is a rescue.. of course... a rescue... because this can't be true.. this can't be real...

With a choked whimper Ralph broke out of his dream. This is not real... he remembered saying, screaming, whispering these words over and over. They were his mantra, his prayer. 

Today he had nearly forgotten them. When a dream was so pleasant, you didn't want to wake up. He looked around. The shadowy hut was empty. 

"Jack...," he whispered and curled into a tight ball. 

Jack laughed and waved them off. It was always refreshing to run with the pack, to hunt and celebrate their victory over the prey. But he also felt a certain remoteness, even here. 

The other hunters could laugh and joke together, but nobody would really laugh with him. Because they respected him. 

They didn't even like him. They respected him and that as all he'd ever wanted and yet not enough. 

His conversation with Ralph had made this painfully clear to him : There was no one he could really talk to. He stood above them and it was very lonely at this place. 

But he could talk to Ralph. Did that mean Ralph didn't respect him?

He entered the hut and a shockingly familiar scene greeted him. Ralph, curled up into a ball on his skins. For a moment he felt his heart fall. What if Ralph had lost his sanity again and had fallen into the hollow cavern of madness once more?

"I'm home," he said a bit shaky. 

No response. 

He bit on his lip and sat down by the fire. So what? The madman was once again mad. Nothing new there. Could he really expect him to just be healed? 

With practised moves he lit the fire, began to roast the meat, stubbornly concentrating on actions that didn't really need his attention. The smoke burned in his eyes and he coughed.

When the meat was more or less cooked, he looked over at the unresponsive boy.

"Food's ready."

He waited. Nothing happened. 

"Get up. I.. I got you some meat."

This was it. Their usual conversation. He frowned angrily and went over to Ralph. The boy tried to scurry away, still in his crouching position. He got a hold on his shoulder and yanked him up. An empty look out of reddened eyes met his gaze. 

"Ralph!"

Jack frowned deeply. His patience reached his limits. 

"Don't play that on me again! I know you're no nutcase! I have seen it! Ralph!" His grip became harder. 

"Look at me!" He slapped him square across the face. The only reaction a choked animal whimper. 

Frustration pooled inside him. He grabbed a fistful of the fair hair and began force the meat into Ralph's slack mouth. The boy didn't swallow, grease dripped down his chin, mixing with blood from were his lip had been torn by the blow. 

He choked.

"Eat it!" Jack cried. He started shaking him violently.

"I brought you meat! I bring you meat every day! I make sure you don't die!"

"Eat it!"

"Do as I say! Do as I.."

"Jack.."

"I am your Chief! I own you!"

"Jack..!"

"I.."

He startled. 

Ralph was crying, and weakly sobbing his name. He let him go, horrified. The whole cruel mix of emotion crashed down on him. 

He had wanted to protect him.

He had hurt him.

Jack felt the shivering body tumble against his chest. His arms hung useless by his sides while Ralph didn't stop wailing. 

Jack had never learned to comfort. 

After seemingly endless minutes the sobbing stopped. Ralph lay quiet against him. 

"..a game.." 

He tried to speak a bit louder.

"It was all a game. When we came here. As long as it was a game, it was all okay."

"Ralph?"

"I had never seen a dead body before, did you know that?"

"Neither had I."

"What could I do when the rules failed me? What could I do..."

A pale, scarred hand suddenly squeezed his arms, and he felt Ralph breathing hard.

"What could I do, Jack?"

Jack had no answer.

The had slowly let go of him. Softly Ralph raised his head.

Over his tear streaked features spread a smile. 

"If this is reality, then reality is a pretty cruel thing, isn't it?"


	6. Sarr casm ?

6 Sarr – casm ?!

Jack didn't know what to say. Whenever he usually was at a loss of words, he just invented something, some cry or gave some orders. But he just didn't know what to do to comfort this boy. 

Ralph wiped away his tears. He wanted to stay like this, wanted it very much, because it felt warm and save, like this. Nearly an embrace. It didn't matter that it was Jack. Anybody was okay, as long as there was touch, and warmth and the feeling of a living body next to him. The fire was only cinders by now and cracked from time to time. 

"Does that mean... that you believe this is real? This all, I mean.." Jack asked and felt dumb for he hadn't understood Ralph's words.

"Yes," Ralph answered very softly. 

"Oh." 

"That's good... I think." Jack said. He shifted a bit. The body contact with Ralph wasn't bad.. but it made him feel strange. 

Ralph felt the other boy's discomfort and moved away, into a sitting position. 

They looked at each other, suddenly feeling silly.

"Well...".

That night, neither of the boys slept. They just lay in the dark and talked. Sometimes it was only Ralph who talked, and for somebody who had seemingly spent 4 years as a madman, he had surprisingly much to say. 

But the also talked with each other, asking and telling. 

"You told me, some of the kids died." This was Ralph, of course.

"Huh."

"How?"

"Well... some of the littluns.. just vanished. I think it was their food. They must have got ill."

"I remember they only ate fruits."

"Huh. Maybe it was that."

"And other than those?"

"We had a storm, quite a while ago. Bill was hit by a falling tree and died some days later."

"Did you... bury them?"

"We buried Bill. There was quite some discussion as how to do it. Then I just made them bury him."

Ralph chuckled. 

"You made them. Always the Chief, huh?"

Jack snorted. 

"And where?"

"Somewhere at the far end of the island, where nobody ever goes."

Ralph fell silent for a short time. Then he said something, that had been gnawing at his mind for a really long time. 

"We never... you never buried Simon, did you?"

Jack closed his eyes.

"No... back then.."

"Yes, back then."

"We should have, shouldn't we?"

"You.. we were in a frenzy."

"You weren't. I was."

"I was stupid in my own ways."

Jack said nothing, but he had his own thoughts on this. 

To humour them Ralph asked:

"Are you still putting up those silly heads?"

"Heads?"

"These pig-heads. For the beast."

"There was no beast."

"I knew that. So, are you?"

"No..." They laughed.

"I liked Simon." Ralph said into the silence.

Jack remained shamefully silent.

"I liked him very much."

"He was... was nice," Jack forced out.

"Nice to everybody. I thought about him very long. About the things he said. About the beast inside us. It sounded silly, then. But now, after all... I had a long time to think about stuff like that. Are we evil?"

"You mean, am I evil," Jack said bitterly.

"In that night... I was in the dance too."

"You were?"

For a long time there was a heavy silence over them. When Ralph nearly thought Jack had fallen asleep, the red-haired boy said:

"We'll never be saved."

"Saved?" Ralph frowned.

"After you snapped, nobody made the signal-fires any more."

"Oh."

"Huh."

"So we'll live here until we die.." Ralph whispered. 

"I think so."

"That's good."

"What?" Jack gasped.

"That's good, because no one of us could ever go back. Imagine it. Imagine meeting your parents again. We are dead for them, dead since four years. And in away... we are. The children we were are gone. And.. be true.. would you want to leave?"

"Not really," Jack admitted.

"See."

"We've got everything we need."

"You think so?"

"Of course! Nobody hungers here."

"Jack!" Ralph laughed. "With you it's always meat, meat, meat. There is more to live than food."

Jack made and insulted grunt.

"That isn't true! There's the hunt, and play, and..."

"You are such a child."

"I warn you..."

"We don't have medicine. We won't have a knife, if we loose ours. We don't have girls."

"Girls?"

"Yes. You remember girls? The ones with the long hair and skirts?"

"But for what would we need them?"

"Well... for what would one need girls?"

Jack blushed in the dark. 

"Do you never think of them? I have never been kissed," Ralph said.

"Have you?" he asked.

"No."

"See? We'll die as virgins!"

Jack gasped at the indirect mention of such things. Deep, deep in this mind there was still an English choir boy.

"We'll never have children. We'll just be forgotten, once we die," Ralph continued.

"I wonder if kisses feel really that good," Jack said, intrigued by the idea.

"No idea. As I said.."

"It's a shame.. everyone always made a big deal out of kissing. We must be really missing something."

Ralph turned his head to look at the shadow that was Jack. They lay there, peacefully, like boys in a tent at a holiday camp might have, conversing about girls. Jacks eyes gleamed in the dark.

"Well... if it is really that important to you, you can kiss me," he sighed.

"What!" Jack cried out and bolted into a sitting position.

"Are you crazy?"

"I used to be."

"But isn't this forbidden? Two boys.."

"Forbidden? But who would forbid it, here? Have you already forgotten, Jack? You make the rules here."

"But is it something bad!"

"Oh really. We have eaten with our fingers. We have gone to bed without brushing our teeth. We have killed. Do you think it still matters?"

Ralph sat on his knees and looked at Jack. 

"Aren't you curious?"

Jack frowned at him. 

"You seem to want this very much," he observed.

"Maybe," Ralph said.

Jack bit on his lip. Of course he was curious! And of course Ralph was right with what he had said : He made the rules.

He crawled to were Ralph said. In the faint moonlight his fair hair glistened in a pale shine. 

Ralph himself wondered why he had said those things. Did he want this? He had provoked it. And now Jack was close, and he would do it. He would kiss him. He tried to push away the memories of that night, memories he knew Jack hadn't. 

And then their lips met, very softly, and very awkward, too. 

Honestly, it wasn't great. But still... Ralph felt no fear. Fear of this was what he had feared. And that was probably also the reason why he had said those things : to assure himself that this was nothing, that it was normal and okay.

They parted soon, both feeling increasingly stupid. 

"Well..." Jack said and licked his lips.

"It wasn't that great... maybe we're not missing much..," he went on.

Ralph made a mock gasp.

"But Jack! Are you insulting my kissing?"

Jack went fiercely red.

"No..."

"Stupid. That was meant to be sarcasm."

"Sarr – casm?" Jack asked dumbly. 

Ralph grinned. Then he slowly began chuckling. At first Jack felt offended, but then he laughed too. And soon they were both cringing with silent laughter like the teenagers they were.


	7. Contradictory

Warnings: none
Note: As if have already mentioned, I am a German student. My English teacher (I am eternally thankful for this!!!) assigned us to read LOTF, but we only got a **shortened** version! How mean. Now I got myself the complete story and I am rereading it, seeing how much I have missed. 
    
7 Contradictory

Jack felt joy pulsing through his veins while he prepared a small breakfast consisting of fruit and clear water that he had fetched in the early morning hours while Ralph had slept for a short time. He whistled and hummed and felt an urge to sing like he hadn't ever since he had been the part of a choir. But he knew that he was still going through the change of voice and that singing would probably sound horrible. 

His fair-haired companion lay awake but still on his skins. He was listening to the almost homely sounds of preparing a meal and cheerful humming. For a real long time he had resented being around the Chief, but now it felt good and natural. They had become friends, and this time Ralph was confident that their bond of friendship would be stronger than the first time they had met. 

He got up and took a slice of one of the big, yellowish fruits that resembled melons in look and taste. They ate in content silence, until both heard a shuffling noise outside the hut. 

Jack got up and opened the door of pigskins. A strange sight greeted him. Outside the hut a little crowd of boys stood, most of them biguns. Samneric were there, Maurice, Robert, Harold, and half hidden by the tall twins, Roger. A bit to the side some littluns stood, gaping curiously at their Chief. Now they began whispering with hushed voices. 

"What is up?" Jack asked them. Something must have happened. They looked at him nervously, and then their looks wandered to the twins. 

It was Maurice who spoke first.

"Samneric told us that Ralph was..."

".. normal again?" Robert finished with a questioning look at his leader.

The whispering of the littluns became more excitedly and the twins were shuffling on their feet with discomfort. 

"They said they saw him."

"So is it true?"

"It is," he said. What were they up to? Was Ralph still that interesting after all these years?

"Jack?" A voice asked from behind him. Ralph peered above his shoulder and instantly shied back when he saw the crowd. Jack frowned and held him by his shoulder. With a firm grip he dragged the fair-haired boy out of the shelter and next to him into the daylight. He felt him shiver under his hold when all the prying stares fell on him. 

Ralph didn't want to shy away from them, but they scared him immensely. It had been different to just meet the baffled twins. Now there was a crowd, a mass of faces, some very unfamiliar, and some even masked. 

These were the faces that haunted him. 

Everyone sucked in breath when the Chief pulled Ralph out from behind him. The boy who had once been their leader with the shining conch but who they also remembered as a sobbing, raving lunatic. 

He didn't look much more convincing now. But the Chief had said it was true that he wasn't batty anymore. 

"Talk to them," Jack hissed.

Ralph's eyes darted around. He caught sight of Roger, who had a cold sneer plastered across his painted face and shuddered slightly. 

Would they hate him?

Would they hunt him?

What would Jack do?

He looked at the anxious twins and at the littluns with their gawking faces. 

Did they remember him? 

As what?

As the madman, as the prey?

Did they remember the hunt and the dance?

Did they remember Simon, Simon and Piggy?

Did they remember the boy with the conch whom they had elected their Chief?

He murmured words, soundless, that stuck in his throat. 

Jack felt tenser with every passing second. Was this too much for the frail boy?

"I am here," he hard him say, very quietly, but audibly. His voice was still quivering, as he repeated his new mantra.

"I am here." He raised his gaze to look at their faces. 

"Yes, I am sane again."

The twins grinned at each other, relieved and victorious. Some of the littluns followed their example and soon everyone felt more or less relived. Only Roger's face was cold as ever, and his eyes bore an indistinct anger. 

The twins were first to make a further move. They came towards them and patted Ralph on the shoulders, who laughed bravely despite his still lingering fear of the crowd. 

The littluns who didn't half understand what was going on – not only were most of them very simple in mind, they also had forgotten a lot of the old day's happenings – were jumping up and down excitedly and crying for a feast.

"The others!"

"Let's call everyone together!"

"A feast!"

"A big feast!"

"An assembly!"

"A big fire!"

Jack was nearly giving his okay for the idea, when his eyes met Ralph.

"Is this okay for you?" he asked insecurely. 

"I'll have to attend it," Ralph said quietly.

"You needn't."

"Yes I do. Someday I will have to, I think. So let's do it now, when everyone is still cheerful."

The rest of the day was spent with busy work and preparing the celebration. Officially it was just "a feast", but everyone knew that Ralph would be there and that made it special. It wasn't that Ralph was overly popular with the boys, although most of them had somehow liked or admired him once. But they were curious as kittens once the news spread among them. 

Jack chose the place where they would celebrate. He sent the twins as leaders of two hunting parties. The boys who weren't hunting were ordered to get fruits and wood for a big fire. 

He chose a place near the river, to have fresh water close, and they build up a huge pyramid of wood in the sand of the beach. The mood was happy and excited as it hadn't been for months. 

Ralph sat in the shadows of the tall palms and trees and watched them. He felt save, were he was, outside the crowd, and in the broad light of day. And he was also bemused by how well everything functioned. 

What had once seemed like destructive chaos was now a happy, peaceful and regular little society. Now that Jack was the unquestioned Chief he had relaxed a lot and was actually a very good leader to them.

Whenever Jack could steal a second he came over to Ralph, sweaty and grinning. 

"It's going well, isn't it?" he asked proudly. 

Ralph nodded.

"They seem very happy."

Jack slumped down next to him in the fine white sand. 

"But what about you, Ralph? This is to celebrate your 'return'. Aren't you happy, too?"

Ralph smiled. 

"I'm very happy, Jack. I'm happy because I see that everything is peaceful and alright."

"You doubted that," Jack said darkly, his brightness gone.

"Yes. Back then it seemed like your tribe had no rules, no order. It seemed like chaos, ruled by frantic violence."

"It worked out rather well," Jack said in a gruff voice. "I was the better leader after all. You failed and I succeeded."

"We'll still have to see that."

Jack frowned and got to his feet very abruptly. 

"Well then," he said and walked away to the others. 


	8. Distant

Note: Please excuse any mistakes and typos. This is written extremely rushed, because I really don't know how long my 'creativeness' will last...Thank you to all reviewers!!! I love you :D

8 Distant

The heat of day had passed, turning into a golden glowing afternoon. One of the two hunting parties had returned, with a particularly fat pig and triumphant howling. After everyone had admired the dead animal, they were now resting near were Ralph sat, in the shadow of the waving palm branches, tired from hunt but looking forward to the evening.

Jack was nowhere to be seen, and Ralph wasn't keen on finding him either. He didn't know what to do or feel, and so he just stayed where he was and watched the others without really being interested. Time went by slowly and more and more of the islanders came to the yet unlit fire, expectant and cheery. 

Finally the second hunting party arrived, with Jack marching at the top, and next to him Roger, behind them Sam, carrying a sow that was even bigger than the other pig. They came out of the forest, and Jack marched straight towards the staple of wood, not even turning his head. Everyone rushed together, intent on seeing the wonderful prey. 

Jack climbed the wood, and around it stood Roger, Samneric and Maurice, the tallest boys of the island. He rose the hand in which he carried a bloody spear and everyone fell silent at once. He looked around and when he was sure they all paid attention, he began to speak loudly. Even Ralph could clearly understand his words.

"Today is a great day!"

Everyone cheered. When the cries died down he continued.

"We have hunted good meat!"

Again, voices were risen to an excited clamour. Ralph got the distinct impression that everything was following a firmly set frame, some kind of ritual speech. 

"Today is a great day! We have come together to celebrate!"

Again a pause for applause. 

"Let us celebrate! Let's light the fire!"

"The fire!"

"Yes, yes! The fire!"

"Light the fire!"

"Jack!"

"The chief! ..."

Jack jumped off the wood and gave a small object to Roger, who knelt down and a few moments later smoke was rising and the first flames licked at the dried wood. Deafening cheers and delightful screams rose, and many of the children started bouncing and dancing around the fire. The older ones were not as enthusiastic for they knew well that staying cool would make them seem even more remote and admirable. 

Jack turned around and with his hunters following him, he walked a bit away from the fire and sat on a boulder near by, Samneric settled by his feet, Roger stood behind him, the other choir boys around them. 

Ralph was amazed. Everything was so... it was now clear to him. Even he, an uneducated boy, could see it. They were like a real court, Jack and his followers, like a king and his favourites. And everyone respected them, for whatever reason they had: possibly fear, maybe admiration, most surely out of habit. 

Not all of them were choir boys or biguns. There were some littluns, too, now nearly the age Jack and Ralph had been when they first arrived on the island. Most of them were joking and laughing as well as the others. Only Roger, remote and furtive as ever stayed away from all play and Jack remained still on his throne, a stony expression plastered on his face like the mask he used to wear. 

When the fire had burned down enough for the meat to be prepared, the twins lifted one of the pigs and Robert and Maurice the other one under another wave of cheering. When they were done, Samneric suddenly walked over to where Ralph was sitting.

"Why don't you come and sit with us?" they asked, a bit timidly. 

"Sure," Ralph said, and followed them, even though his palms were sweaty and his feet were weak with every step that brought him closer to the fire. The twins guided him to where the hunters sat, and he seated himself among them on the still warm sand. Shortly his eyes met Jack's, but the Chief looked away, so Ralph let it be. 

He instantly caught the attention of the other boys and they came closer. Maintaining the respectful distance, they settled around them, whispering and talking loudly. When everyone but the one's who were responsible for the food was close, one of the smallest boys, maybe ten years old, cried:"Let's tell a story!"

Over the following noise, Jack spoke for the first time after his speech.

"Good idea. Someone tell a story."

Ralph tried to get a closer look at the boy. He resembled Henry a little bit, but that wasn't for sure. 

"A story!"

"The story of the beast!"

"No!" many screamed.

"The story of the big storm!"

Over the steadily growing clamour a deeper and louder voice was suddenly heard.

"Let us tell the story of the hunt," it said. 

For a second everyone fell eerily silent, then the noise rose again when every last of the boys agreed. 

"The story of the hunt!" they exclaimed with glee and excitement.

A big argument as to who should tell this story ensued. Roger, who had been the one the make the suggestion, obviously wouldn't tell it. Suddenly another boy, a littlun of maybe twelve years, appeared next to Ralph.

"Let him tell the story!" he screamed with a high-pitched voice. A lot of heads turned to see who was meant and soon a choir of voices shouted:

"Ralph! Ralph! Let Ralph tell the story!"

Ralph was frozen to his place. The fire, the voices, everything told him : Run! Yet his body was rigid and his eyes could only stare widely at the mass of boys. His helpless looks darted towards Jack who looked surprisingly helpless himself. He didn't seem to know what to do, and when he noticed Ralph's fearful look, he just bit his lip. Behind him, Roger smirked. 

"Ralph! Ralph!"

The world around Ralph started to swirl and blur into one big noise. He felt like falling and clutched the sand to prevent himself from crashing to the ground. In the same moment, Jack suddenly jumped to his feet and called with his strongest voice: "The meat is ready! Let's eat first."

And when Ralph slowly came back to himself, he was sitting alone in the sand, while the crowd was chattering around the fire, trying to get as much of the east as possible. Jack was among them, easily visible for he was the tallest among the boys. 

Ralph got to his feet. His legs felt weak and he knew he wouldn't make it to Jack's hut, but he also knew he couldn't stay, or this would be his end. And so he stumbled through the warm and soft sand, hurrying to get out of sight, and into the dark of the woods. When he was sure nobody would see him any more, he leaned against a tall tree, embracing the cool wood and desperately seeking for halt, so he wouldn't just faint where he stood. 

"Ralph," a voice said behind him.

**TBC**


	9. Opaque

Note: Here she comes again, bagheera, the ninja of fanfiction! My my.. last chapter's cliffhanger was not a very good one, eh? I'm just to obvious... * sends apologetic grin to whitethorn *

9 Opaque

The green darkness of the jungle engulfed him, the incredible weight of moist air and gloom pressing down on him. It made Ralph want to just fall down and close his eyes in defeat. 

"Ralph," repeated the voice.

He just wanted to run. But his mind told him it was futile. Whoever this was, would have him in no time. Every single person on this island was stronger and faster than him. 

And so he turned, very slowly, full of hope, full of terror, to see who this might be. 

"Ralph," the person said again, with a voice that was neither loud nor low, neither aggressive nor friendly, that was indeed devoid of any feeling or quality. A dark foreboding rose inside him. 

The figure he saw when he finally turned around was obscured by deep shadows. 

"Ralph," it said again and made a step towards him. Without thinking he made a step back and instantly cursed himself for doing so. _Show no fear!_

The shadow had stepped into a dim ray of moonlight, revealing a familiar frame.

"Roger," Ralph said, not any happier now he knew who it was.

"Are you running away? Got lost?" The dark boy made no afford to hide the teasing. 

"Or just gone batty again?"

Ralph's thoughts raced. What was Roger up to? What was he able to? 

__

Roger killed Piggy.

But Roger had no reason to do such a thing again!

__

He needs no reason. He enjoys it.

But he wouldn't do it! He must know that Jack didn't want anybody to harm him . He even gave the order. 

"Can't you even answer me?" Roger asked full of contempt.

"I clearly remember a time when you were so talkative.. 'Oh, let us call an assembly!'"

He made another step towards Ralph, threateningly. 

"But do you want to know what I think? I think you never were a madman. It was all one big show! Oh, you certainly are clever, Ralphie. Clever enough to fool a bunch of kids!"

Roger, who usually was very uncommunicative, was currently enjoying himself so much, that he forgot to be quiet. Here, in the shadows, he let out all the thoughts that had been inside him for a very long time. 

"I never believed in your 'madness'. And now, when you think it's save enough, you suddenly recover. Very suspicious."

"What do you want, Roger?" Ralph finally managed. He didn't even notice the tiny change in Roger when he said his name, but there was one. Roger was the kind of person who felt best as long as nobody even noticed him. Everything done from the shadows, secretive and furtive by nature, he hated to be called by his name.

"Finish something that should have been finished long before," he said coldly. He raised his right hand, and revealed a lengthy spear. It was not one of the humble sharpened sticks that the boys once had wielded in their war and hunting-games, but a long and deadly weapon and the hand of a determined killer. 

Ralph considered his options. Screaming for help was one. If somebody heard him, they would probably be to slow to help him, but maybe Roger would be scared off by the prospect of somebody seeing them. But then again... would he?

"It's a pity Jack has gone so soft these days. I wonder, why doesn't he kill you?" Roger's question was full of hidden meanings, making Ralph shiver despite the warmth. 

There was another option, and that was biding time by talking. He just had to find the right words, and the courage to actually talk. Roger had been right, there had once been a time when Ralph had talked with ease and pleasure, and when he had always found the right words. He just had to find them again!

"Because there is no reason to kill me, Roger." He said and took a deep breath. Yes, this was good. Go on, go on...

"Because we don't just kill each other like animals! Why should he kill me?"

Roger made and angry snarl and lunged at Ralph. The fair-haired boy already thought his last moment to have come, but Roger only knocked him down and straddled him with his knees, pointing the sharp wood at his throat. Obscured by a curtain of dark hair his face hovered over Ralph's.

"Why? Why! Because he is no fool. That is! He must know what you are! You are a threat to all we have. You always envied Jack. He was a great hunter and warrior and you were only a weak cheat who could nothing but lie and talk. You are too weak to be a leader! Only the strongest can be a good leader to his people. Come the chance and you will try to regain your old position and then we'll be..." Roger began to talk himself into a rage.

"Oh, I always saw through you, Ralph. You talked of rescue, rescue, but in reality you only wanted to use their hopes to make them subservient. Very clever. You and your stupid cronies would have ruined us! Remember how we discovered you on the day of the hunt? That was me! I discovered your little spies among us. And I had the idea with the fire... we would have got you! We would have put an end to this. If not for your little drama on that beach."

The last sentence he said with the bitterness of someone who had been cheated out of a great victory. But then a tight smile showed on his lips. 

"I wonder what it was that made Jack change his mind about you.. he was suddenly very interested in keeping you alive, you know?"

He roughly seized the trapped boy's chin and leaned even closer, his voice only a hiss.

"What was it, that you gave him? Oh, I can imagine it... when your sweet words failed you.. how you gave him the other sweetness you had.. did you think I wouldn't notice it? How he looks at you? I bet it wasn't easy to give yourself to him... or maybe..." his grin widened, falling apart into a horrible grimace. 

".. maybe you enjoyed it!" 

Roger's face was so close that Ralph could feel him breathing, the ragged breathing of a very agitated person, hot and fast. He felt sick, and angry, and frightened and frustrated by his weakness, he felt contempt for Roger, he felt burning hate for Roger... he felt deeply ashamed. For Roger, unknowingly, had guessed a part of the truth that was Ralph's darkest secret. 

"Poor Jack. To be blinded by someone like you... but I understand it only to well. Have felt it myself. That longing, that lust.. and nothing for release... and you are there.. seductive.. and, oh, you are also fairly attractive." He grinned, showing his teeth. 

"You're disgusting!" Ralph pressed between his teeth, desperately trying to mask the truth. 

Rogers face twisted and he earned a brutal blow with his fist. Then the boy spit at him. 

"Now you may have him caught in your web of lies, but soon the Chief will thank me for freeing him!"

Ralph was horrified. Roger did, quite obviously, believe in his words. He was mad, madder than Ralph had ever been, because his madness was masked by devious reason, that, though twisted and bent in perversion, still worked for him. 

So he lay, still and awaiting his fate, while not only Roger's but also the weight of humanities cruelty weighed on him. 

But Roger seemed intent on enjoying his victory to the fullest. He wouldn't just kill him. He needed to cause pain, and he revelled in other's suffering. It was his thrill, his drug. 

"When I'm done with you, you'll wish to have died that day," he whispered into Ralph's ear. One of his hands pressed down on his throat making Ralph wheeze. With the other he trailed the spear tip across his chest, scratching his skin, drawing blood. With utter fascination he stared down at the black glistening substance, while Ralph was desperately gasping for air under his firm grip. 

He bent down and lapped at the blood, smiling at the copper taste and further ripping at the soft skin. Ralph made a choked cry and started to struggle against Roger's body, but he knew he was to weak to achieve anything. Roger laughed in amusement, pushing him down again, and suddenly, to the fair-haired boy's utter surprise, kissed him harshly on the mouth. For a short moment Ralph was too shocked to even react, or fight when Roger pulled down his ragged shorts. A sweaty hand pressed down on his mouth, nearly suffocating him.

"What's up, Ralph? I thought you liked this?"

Roger tried to spread his legs apart, causing Ralph to struggle until he finally got his mouth free and screamed. Roger didn't care any more so caught up was he in his cruel game. 

And his sadism finally proved to be his downfall. 

Neither of the boys on the ground had heard him advancing when his fist hit Roger so boldly that he literally was flying off Ralph's uncovered body. With a thump he fell against the ground, coming up again a second later, ready to fight. What he saw made him hesitate. 

Jack stood, breathing heavily and seething with rage, between the two boys. 

"You!" he yelled at his follower. 

"What were you thinking...!"

Before Roger could defend himself he had him by his hair, yanking him up and kneeing him into his stomach, once, twice, until Roger collapsed on the ground, coughing up blood.

"Chief!" he groaned. 

"He is a liar! Don't you see it!"

"You! You are the only liar, Roger!" Jack was blind with rage. Every grudge he had held for Ralph was gone, replaced by hatred for the boy who had all the years been his right hand. 

He boxed and kicked, meaning not only to hurt, but to damage, to destroy, to kill. Roger didn't fight him, and soon he couldn't even if he wanted to, bloody and broken his body, on the ground and only whimpering in pain. 

Jack would have ended this, if not for the hand that suddenly seized his leg, pulling weakly at it, trying to stop him.

"Jack!" Ralph pleaded.

"You'll kill him!"

"Yes! I'll kill him! He'll never, ever.."

"No! Jack! Don't you understand? You mustn't kill him! Please!"

Jack stopped dead, panting from his bloodlust. Slowly he turned to look at Ralph, who was still naked and on the ground, bleeding from the cut on his chest, and yet determined to save his torturer.

"But why?" Jack asked and went to his knees, pulling the shivering boy towards him, holding him, comforting him with clumsy hands made for hunting not caressing. 

"Why, Ralph? He hurt you!"

"And he would have killed me. But if you kill him.. you'll be just like him. You'll be a savage again, Jack! You'll be nothing more... than him... please Jack.. please don't be..."

"It's okay," Jack said gravely. "It's okay. I won't kill him."

And in the dark heart of wilderness, two humans clung to each other.


	10. World's Weight

Note: Thank you for r&r, especially those who even reviewed twice or more. :D 

Special thanks to tijynjsa for being the first ever to have put one of my stories on her favourites! 

And you should really read the book ;) (and I should watch the film...)

About Roger: I'm afraid I took a lot of freedom in interpreting Roger's character. Nowhere in the book it is said that he has motives for his cruelty asides from being a natural sadist. Now I could have explored that further, could have invented difficult psychological issues in his childhood, and on, and on... but that would have distracted from the actual story and it'd have been mere speculation, too. 

It is often said in interpretations of LOTF that Roger is the stereotype of a follower of a totalitarian regime. I tried to keep it that way, making him loyal to Jack – even though I myself am not sure on that. But in many stories it seems that Roger is just 'bad because he enjoys it'. I wanted to be a bit different, and I also have my own opinion on that. 

10 World's weight 

"Are you okay?" Jack asked when they both had calmed down a bit. They were still sitting in the darkness, arms wrapped tightly around each other. Ralph nodded. 

"I.. I'm okay..." He felt like crying, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't give Roger the satisfaction of being weak like that, even if at the moment Roger was most surely unaware of his surroundings, if he was still alive at all. 

Jack sneaked a hand under his chin and lifted the boy's face.

"Are you sure? Roger.. what was he up to? Why...?"

Ralph looked away, at the fallen youth's dark form. Why? Roger had had a lot of reasons.. but which were true? Which only made up to justify himself? He was quite sure he'd never understand this one's mind. What he had been up to... now of that he was quite sure.

"He wanted to kill me." Jack furrowed his brows in confusion. He shook his head and looked at Roger.

"I.. I mean I knew he liked to.. liked to bully other kids.. and he could be quite.. quite rough.. but why you? And why now of all times?"

"He wanted to do it all along. He said a lot of things. I was a danger to you, and so on. Jack... ." Ralph didn't know how to put it gently. 

"Jack.. I think he did it out of loyalty to you. It's true, he was cruel and he liked to hurt others.. but he also thought he would do you a favour if he killed me."

"Oh," Jack breathed, totally baffled. Then he suddenly cupped Ralph face with both his hands and looked him straight into the eyes. 

"How wrong he was. How wrong...," he said and smiled and leaned down to kiss Ralph gently on the lips. Ralph closed his eyes. He felt happy, happy to be alive, to be saved, to be loved even. But Roger hadn't totally been defeated. A small thorn of doubt had been driven into Ralph, distrust and shame spreading like venom. He knew very well that he had been mad, and that he hadn't had any intent to 'seduce' Jack to save his life. But at the back of his mind... deep down there was doubt, restless, nagging. 

What if Jack really, maybe only unconsciously, had kept him alive for these reasons? What if he really craved for his body more than he actually liked him? What if he denied himself to Jack...? Ralph broke away from the kiss. He had to tell Jack. He had to tell him, to make this clear. 

"Jack... there was more. More that Roger said."

"It doesn't matter now," Jack said breathlessly, trying to kiss him again. But Ralph shrank away from him, even if it hurt to see Jack's surprise and worry. 

"No, Jack, please. Listen! He said things... about you and me.. about.. about why you kept me alive." This was so difficult.

"And?"

"He said it was all a trick.. it was me.. that I had.. that you had kept me because of.. because of this."

"This?"

"That you kept me because I gave you.. myself. My body." Now. There it was. Hanging between them, dirty, foul, the suggestion of the unspeakable. 

Jack was shocked. Furious. He wanted to kill.

"That.. that dirty piece of...!"

"Jack!"

"For that I'll do him!"

"Jack. That won't change it now. So.. did you?"

"What?!"

Jack stared at the pale face that looked at him so determinedly, so very desperately. Slowly the meaning of Ralph question sunk into him. Suddenly he felt cold and sick. He, too, realised the truth that was in Roger's words. He _did_ want Ralph, he couldn't deny it. He had kissed him even, just now. But...

"Stupid," he said and smacked Ralph on the head. The fair boy blinked. 

"Some parts of your brain must still be snapped! Did you really believe that fool's words?" Jack snorted.

"But..."

"We were twelve! Twelve!! I didn't even have the idea of liking you! Really, sometimes I think every single person on this island goes batty at some point."

Ralph looked at him, dumbly. Then, gradually, his face lit up. 

Just in that moments, Samneric nearly fell over the pair sitting in the dark.

"Chief? Is that you?" one of them shrieked. 

"Samneric?" Jack got up, Ralph hastily pulled his rags back on and then stood next to him.

"What's up?" the Chief asked them resolutely. 

"You.. were suddenly gone, and we thought we might look for you.."

"..and so we did.."

"Has anyone else noticed that we're away?" Ralph asked, to Jack's surprise. Although his face was obscured by shadows, his voice had gained a new strength, and had lost the weakness he had become so used to. 

"We don't think so.."

"Let's go back, then," Ralph suggested. 

Jack nodded. Then he grinned, grim but still a grin, and said:

"Samneric, get Roger and carry him to the fire. Bind him, too."

Samneric startled.

"Roger?" they said with disbelief and turned to where their leader had gestured. The twins stared at the black hump that was Roger. The dark boy had been to them the kind of boy you fear throughout your whole childhood, the one that bullies you whenever you meet him in the schoolyard, the one that terrorises you to no end. But Roger had been even worse, by far darker than such childhood quarrels could ever have been. Both twins well remembered _their_ darkest moment on the island: in Castle Rock, when Roger had made them give away Ralph's hideout. 

Now the boy was nothing but a beaten body, motionless, harmless. Something like a satisfied smile spread over the twin's faces. They hadn't quite understood what had happened, yet, but Roger was obviously defeated, their greatest fear gone. 

"Yes, chief!" they shouted and began dragging the unconscious back to where they had come from, Ralph and Jack following him.

Deep in thought, Jack sighed. Ralph looked at the boy who was walking next to him in brooding silence. Had Jack changed so much, or had he only not seen that side to him before? Maybe it was age, that had brought that calmness and thoughtfulness, but maybe it was also leadership. Ralph remembered himself, how much he had grown up in the time of his leadership. It forced you to think, to decide, to be responsible. 

When they reached the edge of the forest, they both hesitated for a short moment. The boys were sitting around the fire, laughing, eating, and the gorgeous smell of freshly roasted meat greeted them. In front of them, Samneric were hauling Roger down the beach. 

"What shall I do?" Jack asked.

"You can't kill him," Ralph answered, silently understanding what the other one meant. 

"But if I don't kill him, he'll try to kill you, again, until he succeeds."

"But you can't kill him," Ralph insisted. 

"You can't just kill those who are against you. If you do that, you'll truly be a savage. And how would you kill him, anyway? Could you just execute him, coldly, just like that?"

Jack shivered. "No," he admitted between his teeth. Angrily he kicked the sand with his bare feet. 

"But what shall I do about him, then? We can't risk to have him running free, but can we keep him a captive forever?"

Ralph tried to smile at him. 

"Jack. You are not the one to decide this. You don't have to decide everything by yourself."

"Yes I do!"

Ralph sighed. He knew very well how Jack must feel. It was so very difficult, when you had to decide things that could mean life or death, and nobody could help or advise you, when nobody even cared. 

"That's wrong. I thought so, once, too. It was wrong. We have to decide together, everyone on this island. They'll never grow up if they don't learn to decide. Imagine someone like Roger would become chief."

"He'll never!"

"But imagine it. They'd be like wet earth in his hands, ready to be formed after his will, twisted.. they have to learn to have their own opinion, to be able to decide by themselves. Or else everything will always depend on you."

Ralph watched Jack, waiting for a response. The sandy boy was torn. Ralph was right, stunningly right, disturbingly right. But what he demanded would mean major changes. He would have to give the boys the freedom to decide, hoping that they would decide wisely, and that would mean giving up a lot of his power. If they could decide by themselves, they could also decide against him. Ralph had failed that way, somehow. What if they decided against him? Would he have to accept their decision?

"What if they decide that Roger should be killed?" he asked. 

Ralph had waited for this question. Now his time had come. For a long time he had tried to sort out why he had failed, and that had brought him to one conclusion.

"Then you have to put up rules before you let them decide. Rules that state that nobody on this island, for whatever reason, should be killed by us." Jack was just about to ask another question, to argue back once more, but then he let it slip and just sighed, deeply. 

"Well then." He stared at the darkness that was the horizon, at the endless vast space beyond his vision. 

"Tomorrow... tomorrow we'll call an assembly."

Ralph smiled at Jack's broad back, and hugged him gently from behind. He nuzzled against the wild sandy hair, whispering soft words of comfort, words that came from deep inside him, from places and memories long forgotten. And he felt the body in his arms relax, leaning into the touch. 

So they stood silently on the beach, listening to the sounds of happy children and paradise. Both felt a kind of comfort that neither had felt for all the time on the island : the comfort of not being alone, of not having to carry the world's weight on only one's own shoulders. 

And when everyone had left for their sleeping quarters or just slept right where they were, they still lay in the sand, snuggled close to each other, oblivious of the world, of the star's wide tent above their small figures, of the moon rising and descending, of the small waves grazing the shore at their feet. Sometimes they would kiss, but very tenderly only, and by far too much at ease with themselves to let them feel anything but love. 


	11. Rise

As always, huge thanks to my reviewers! Your reviews were so kind and encouraging this time. I hope ff.net will work better soon, so that I can finally upload. 

@Bagheera: Funny. My name was inspired by my cat whom I named after – naturally - Kipling. 

Note: Lately this story has become something that I never even dreamt it would be : political. While 'Lord of the flies' showed the fall of mankind and society, my story is about re-establishing it. That's so positive.... and I always believed myself a realist.. if not a pessimist. 

But that doesn't mean I wouldn't agree with Golding's message. I just think that both sides are possible. Falling – and rising. 

11 Rise 

"You're too nervous."

"I'm not!" 

Ralph tried to massage Jack's tense shoulders but was only rewarded with an annoyed grunt. 

"After all it's me who'll have to talk in front of a crowd that once tried to lynch him!"

"You wanted to! And by the way, it's me who'll be lynched this time, if you'll fail."

"Nobody will lynch anybody." 

"Shameless optimist!"

"Violence fanatic!"

"..."

They we're sitting on the hill, in front of Jack's hut, watching the sun rise higher, waiting for noon. Jack had sent Maurice, Robert and some littluns out to tell everybody that a great assembly would take place on the mountain at noon. It was true, Jack was nervous. He was a man of action, not of talk, and naturally he didn't trust in talk as much as he would have in action. If it hadn't been Ralph who would talk, he'd never have given his okay to this. 

Ralph knew too well how much Jack's decision meant. It meant not only that Jack trusted him, totally, it also meant that he would give back the power he had once taken from Ralph. Of course, Jack would remain the unquestioned leader of the group. But he would, from the moment on that Ralph raised his voice to the assembly, have to share his power with him. To Ralph this showed more than the trust and friendship, if not love, that had grown between them. It showed how Jack himself had grown. 

Somewhere near them, in one of the smaller huts that stood on the hill, the twins waited with Roger for his trial. Jack remembered well their identical smiles of grim satisfaction at Roger's downfall. And he wondered, what the look on their faces would be, if it was him. When they would judge Roger today, they would not only punish him for trying to kill Ralph. It would also be the other deeds.. killing, torturing.. Things that he himself had done. But he would not be accused. He would be the one to accuse. He knew this wasn't right – but he also felt no guilt.

He looked at Ralph, who was sitting next to him in the dry grass, his knees drawn to his chest and his long hair playing around his shoulders. His eyes were resting on the horizon, far away in day-dreaming. He didn't look frail or weak. His still too thin frame wasn't bent by the years of madness anymore, his eyes were calm, his face grazed by a small smile. Like if that inner glow, that light of charisma had found it's way back into him. That unbreakable optimism of their early days. And yet not. That optimism had been built on the hope for rescue, on innocence and naivety. But this new thing was faith in oneself. Ralph knew what the world, what people could be. He hadn't forgotten. But he still had faith. 

As the sun rose higher, more and more boys came to the mountaintop. A new place for assembly had been build here in the last years. A round of stones and an area of soft grass, ideal for sitting. When everyone seemed to have arrived, Jack and Ralph went there and Jack mounted the biggest stone that was his. He held his hand out for Ralph, who took it and then they were both standing in front of the whole group. People were excited and wondering what was going on. Not only was the second time in two days that whole group had been called together, it was also Ralph standing next to Jack on the throne. Some of then also noticed that three of them were absent : Roger and the twins. 

Jack looked around them. Then he raised his hands and everyone fell instantly silent. He waited a moment longer, and then he spoke to them.

"I have called an assembly." 

"This will be a very important assembly. Very important! Today we will decide a lot of things. We will talk a lot. You'll listen, and you'll be quiet. This is important for every single one on this island. For you." He made a pause, looking at each of them, trying to make this clear.

"And you will not only listen to me. You will listen to Ralph, just like you'd listen to me!"

Astonishment. 

"Listen to him. Listen carefully, and decide." He looked at Ralph, then he settled down so that Ralph was the only one still standing. Ralph looked at them. They were very silent, and looking forward to what he had to say. He took a deep breath. 

Tension.

"Yesterday," he began, "..yesterday I was asked to tell a story. Let me tell you a story. A story of a group of children, stranded lonely on an island. They were not normal children. They were very brave, and they managed to survive without any help. They were brave. They made fire, they hunted wild animals. They didn't give up. This group of children was you." He smiled at them, and they smiled back, for they had been praised. 

"You were very brave, and no one would ever question this. But there are things, things that happened on this island, that should not have happened. Do you remember a boy named Simon? Simon is dead. Has any, any of you ever been hurt by him? Has he ever said a bad word, or done a bad thing? No. Simon is dead. Simon is dead, because we all, every single one of us killed him." A painful silence descended over them, when he had finally said the unspeakable. They were staring at him, horrified, with open mouths and wide eyes. And he was staring back, bitterly, but also understanding them. 

"Nothing can bring Simon back. There was another one of us, one called Piggy. Piggy is also dead. Now, who has killed Piggy?" No one answered him, they all looked away, or to the ground. 

"Roger," someone finally said. Ralph nodded. 

"Roger, indeed. Has anyone tried to prevent Piggy's dead? No? No one? How brave you were. You killed the enemy. You killed the beast. You made it bleed, the evil beast." He paused for breath, noticing how agitated he had become. Their faces were masks of terror. Even Jack was shocked by the drastic words. 

"I'm sorry," he said into the silence. 

"I'm sorry that I had to tell this story. And I want to never have to tell it again. And therefore we need rules."

They looked at him. Did they understand? They looked rather blank, still to shaken to react. 

"We need rules. Of course we already have rules, but these aren't enough. You!" He picked a random littlun who startled and then grinned nervously. 

"You. Has anyone since you were on the island ever done something to you that wasn't right?"

"Umm.."

"Has anyone ever hurt you, or treated you badly, or has somebody taken something that belonged to you?" Ralph asked the boy, trying to look friendly. Finally the boy brightened, like someone in school who has solved an especially difficult task.

"Once... once Henry threw a bone at my head!"

"But only because you hit me with a stick!"

"I didn't!"

"You did! It bled!"

"No!"

The two were screaming at each other like little children. Ralph smiled despite the serious situation.

"Okay! Now calm down, please!" he said loudly and they sat down again, glaring at each other.

He picked another boy, who happened to be Robert.

"Has anyone ever hurt you?"

"Well... not really.. there was this one time though.. when I was the prey in a game..."

Ralph turned around, picked another one. 

"You?"

"Roger beat me. And he broke my spear!"

"You?"

"Percival stole my socks!"

"You?"

"Um.. once.. once.. once the Chief..."

"Okay. It seems most of you have once been hurt or anything. I guess you reacted somehow?"

"I gave it back!"

"Yes, I made him pay!"

"I ran away!"

"We had a fight!"

Ralph nodded and waited until they had calmed down again.

"But wouldn't it be much better, if every time something like that happened, you could go to Jack, or to me, or to someone else who is responsible for it, and tell them and solve your problem? Wouldn't it be better if things like these wouldn't even happen at all, because everyone knows that they are forbidden?"

Nodding. 

"Wouldn't it be better if we had rules, and laws?"

Sounds of agreement.

"Of course we can't have laws for everything. But there is one law, that we need, before all others." He looked at Jack, who stood up. He looked very serious. 

"Nobody," Jack said " nobody shall be killed."

Ralph stood at Jack's side, feeling pride and anticipation.

"Whoever agrees should raise his hand!"

They were looking at each other, at their leader, waiting for anyone to begin with raising his hand. Naturally none of them wanted to be first. Birds were singing. The sun was hot. Jack felt sweat running down his bare back. And then, almost in unison, so that later no one was sure who had been the first, they raised their hands. They raised their hands, everyone, until finally Ralph and Jack raised their hands, too.

At was as if everyone felt that this moment was special, almost historical. And at last, the glamour and joy of it made them laugh and cheer together. Even Jack and Ralph were grinning and laughing with relief. 

"You did great!"

"No, you did great!"

"We both did great." 

They decided to have Roger's trial the next day, for the matter was far too dark for the happy boys to discuss now. When it seemed like everyone was already going, Jack suddenly clapped his hands, surprising everyone, Ralph included. 

"Wait! There is another thing we have to tell you!"

Jack grinned wickedly and then he grabbed the unsuspecting Ralph and kissed him, hard. Everyone stared. 


	12. Ardour

Note: Some people are incredibly stupid (such as myself at times...)! We started discussing LOTF in class this week (I shouldn't have read so much about it, I'm bored now) and I told my English teacher that I liked the book. What is wrong with that?! I really do, it is currently my favourite (this will change exactly tomorrow with Potter 5, I guess). And guess what some IDIOT said to me after the lesson? Flatterer, swot, careerist, whatever the h*** you call it in English!!! And that person calls herself my best friend. 

Honestly, is it that horrible to talk to a teacher? To like a book you read in school? Okay, probably it was only a joke, but it made me angry and it hurt. Enough of the soul-striptease. 

@Roxy: Well ,then I wish you happy holidays in Germany :D Where are you going to? I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you all for r&r!!! (and these weren't even supposed to be cliffhangers...)

12 Ardour 

A flaming afternoon hat settled over the island, leaving the mountain-top deserted as every living being fled from the heat into the forest or to the water. There they lay, breathing heavily and yearning for the cool of the evening to come. 

The only ones who still were up there, were Jack and Ralph, resting in the shadow of the hut. They both felt incredibly exhausted, wanting only to rest, rest, rest. The boys didn't lay close, for it would have been far too hot, but they felt close.

Ralph's thoughts were flowing slowly and lazily, like the water in a big, warm river at this time of day would have. He had done it. He had finally done something right, had finally changed what had been so wrong, so unforgivably wrong. He knew that he couldn't change what had been, couldn't undo what had been done. But he was sure that Piggy and Simon would have been happy about their new principles. He knew that he himself was happy. 

He could almost see Piggy's face... maybe the spectacled boy would have made it better than he, certainly he would have. But he wasn't Piggy. He had done his best, and hoped it was enough. And Simon would be happy, too.. Ralph was almost sure that Simon did forgive them. 

If you accept reality, it doesn't mean that you have to accept it like it is. You can always try and change it, make it more comfortable to live in. 

Jack felt drained, too, his mind swirling. He lay collapsed on his mattress of leather and cool leaves, eyes closed, his sandy hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. Now that it was over, he felt no more doubts. What was done was done. Jack had never been one to brood over the past. But there was a future, too, and that, in all it's promising brightness, was also evasive like the land beyond the horizon. But Jack was also not one to fear the future. He was living in the now, and difficulties were not something to complain about but a welcome challenge. Hadn't he been bored before, by the peaceful monotony their life had become?

Jack was not a 'violence fanatic' as Ralph had called him – of course this had been a joke – but somebody who needed action, movement, something to manage, something to challenge him. Everything was okay, as long as it provided him activity, appreciation and admiration. Of course, there was something primal, something endlessly satisfying about the feeling of warm blood on your hands. It was power, in it's purest, rawest form. But he would never kill again without seeing another day, another prey... a prey that he loved. How could there be glory in killing, when the ones you loved could also be killed? 

Unwillingly he also thought of Roger. A cold tingling sensation lingered in his chest at the thought of the dark boy that had been his closest follower and also something like a friend. It was not easy to befriend Roger, but he had always thought that they were similar, two of a kind, who understood each other. The truth was, that he didn't understand him a bit. It was so easy to be deceived. The thought made him uncomfortable. Life was so much more difficult than masks and spears and playing war. Life was about .. what was life about? 

The space between them was only a step, reach out with your hand and you could touch each other. Why did Ralph want to touch him? When he let his thoughts run free, they always wandered to Jack, to his bronzed skin, so his blue eyes, to the lips... and his breath became faster, his mind suddenly fixed on the image, his whole body full of sizzling energy .. and then suddenly he realised just _what _he was thinking and it made his heart clench like a fist. Why? What was wrong with him? But something was wrong.. it was strange and unfamiliar. What, just what did he want so desperately.. and why..

Of course, Ralph, as a child, had seen and heard of love, of being in love. He had known that people in love kissed each other, and that love-kisses were different from good-night-kisses or give-auntie-a-kiss-kisses. Just _what_ was different, that had nobody told him. Of course. You don't tell little school-boys what desire is, what lust is. And nobody had told him ever since. Nobody had told him what made his body more excited than a ride in a roller coaster.

But there were other things that were bothering him. The things Roger had implied. The looks Roger had given him. Bloodlust. The way these looks had changed when he started touching him. The fact that Jack had touched him in similar ways, that one night. Had they... felt this way? Had they had the breath-taking, pulse-accelerating, heart-clenching feeling? This feeling, about him...

He glanced at Jack, who seemed sleeping. Very carefully and silently he moved a hand over his chest, where the small cut from Roger's spear still was red and burning. He followed they path the sticky tongue had taken. Little goose-bumps appeared on his arms, but he was suddenly repulsed and drew his hand back. Frowning he turned at Jack. 

Slowly he crawled to were Jack was lying and whispered his name.

"Jack?"

Instantly the red-haired boy opened his eyes.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Are you.. are you angry? About earlier.."

"No.. why?"

Earlier, that was when he had kissed Ralph in front of everyone. Their looks had been priceless. 

But then Maurice had laughed.

"Well that was certainly unexpected! Congratulations, you two," he grinned and with a wave he walked away, relieving everyone of shock and tension, turning it to grinning and laughter. The reaction was entirely positive, maybe still a bit stunned and confused, but nobody protested. The littluns, who had grown-up without the standards and expectations of western society, didn't even realise that two boys kissing each other was supposed to be out of the normal – for them it had been the act of kissing itself that had been shocking and not the one's who kissed. 

Only Ralph was very embarrassed, or at least that was how Jack interpreted his reaction. 

"You didn't want to be kissed, did you?"

Ralph's eyes became wider and he blinked. 

"Actually-"

"I won't do it again."

"Why did you do it?" Ralph burst out.

"I just.. wanted to show everyone.. that we belong together."

"Do we?"

Jack wrapped his arms around the bony body and breathed in the salty scent of skin. All that soft boy's skin, so warm, so vulnerable. Ralph didn't move, and suppressed a shiver. 

"There was a another reason, why I kept you, instead of killing you," Jack whispered to him. 

"I wanted to know what it was like to own you. You were mine. You belonged to me. But that has changed. You still belong to me. But I also belong to you. We belong together." Now Ralph shivered, not from cold, but from heat. Jack started planting kisses on his neck, leaving little wet spots behind, that were cooling and burning at the same time. Ralph made a sound that wasn't quite a sigh, neither a sob. He didn't know it himself – was it denial or cry for more?

"I still want to own you, to hold you, to possess you wholly, I won't let you go....," Jack's pressed voice was nearly painful. Such desire and need was overwhelming for Ralph. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing, which was getting harder. Jacks arms were nearly crushing him in their desperate embrace. Sweat became sticky, and Jacks hands roamed aimlessly over his body, admiring it in a way eyes never could. 

Both boys were carried away by their body's cravings. Somehow their minds became focused on this one thing, loosing all reason and sense of place and time. The roof could have burst to fire above their heads and they wouldn't have noticed. It overflowed Ralph and he turned to Jack, claiming his mouth with a hungry fervour. Later, when he would analyse his feelings, the only thing that came to his mind was the passion and rage he knew Jack felt, when he hunted. Totally loosing it to your instincts, giving up all moral and sense. But for now, his mind knew nothing but the greedy touches. 

Evening crept over the mountain, and soon the coolness of night engulfed them. Sweat dried and panting slowed down. Jack was stroking the tangled fair hair. His touches were tender and happy. In the darkness, Ralph's eyes glistened glassy whenever he blinked and his skin had a milky quality. Jacks eyelids dropped.

"You are so beautiful... like this," he mumbled. 

"I feel light...,"

"I know."

"Like some heavy thing.. has been taken away.."

"I love you."


	13. Pain

Note : I split this and the next chapter into two, so this is a double update. 

This is a chapter completely without Ralph and Jack, but with Roger, Sam and Eric. I don't think Roger is the kind of evil guy you like, but he's an intriguing character to write. As for Sam and Eric: I don't have evidence that it is Eric who was the victim, I just had the impression that if there was a weaker one of the two, then it would be Eric. 

Thank you all very much for reviewing! LOTF has the best fandom I ever met! Thank you especially to Soybean, who reviewed like.. six times? Whoa! :D 

13 Pain 

The night was pitch black, yet the three occupants of the small hut were far from sleeping. All three of them were only kept awake by pure strength of will. Yet none of them spoke, maybe because they were all somehow pretending to sleep. 

The hut was one of the biggest beside the leader's, yet it was tiny and even though the three people inside tried to keep as much space between them as possible, there was only about one big step between the door-side wall were two of the dark figures huddled, and the opposite wall, were the third figure sat slumped against the wall. 

Roger straightened, provoking not so much as a wary glimpse of the eyes out of the twins, but he knew they were both awake. He sneered to himself. The times where those two would snore away on duty were definitely gone. What an amusing twist of fate that it should be him who had taught them to follow their orders. They had sat there now for more than 24 hours, and as they still seemed to not have learned how to be awake in shifts – or maybe they just weren't willing to – they always were both awake. Their spears were ready, and even if they'd have left him alone and unbound, Roger would not have come far. Jack knew the island better than everyone else, Roger included. And he was injured. 

As far as he could tell from careful flexing of muscles and from the pain he felt even without moving an inch, at least one or two of his rips were broken, there were bruises and cuts all over his body, a particularly nasty one right under his left eye. His upper lip was swollen, as well as the left eye and his right ankle. Dried blood clung to his face like a mask – a familiar feeling. 

He had lost teeth, and he felt a throbbing ache at his back, down where his kidneys should be. This was worrying Roger, he remembered faintly to have read of a person dying from injured kidneys. And, on top of all worry, he hated pain. Feeling pain, that was. Watching pain was fascinating, causing pain was thrilling, but feeling it was horrible. The worst of all was feeling – and showing – pain in front of people. Roger knew this all to well, it was indeed one of his tactics to humiliate his victims by making them suffer in front of a crowd. But the worst of all was showing pain this way: intimately, from face to face, to those who were relishing in it- or, just as bad, might pity you. And that was the reason why Roger would never, ever have shown a single trace of pain to Samneric. 

Just like Roger knew, that the pair was still awake, Eric knew that the dark hunched figure at the opposite wall was not unconscious any more. Eric couldn't sleep. Eric wouldn't sleep, even if he had to sit here another 24 hours, and another, and another... even if Sam slept, Eric would not. He would rather die than sleep in the same room as Roger. 

Eric was more, far more terrified of Roger as it seemed. It was not fear, for of anything rational, of danger or something. It was like when you feared spiders, or mice or serpents. He couldn't even bring himself to touch Roger, even when he had been unconscious. It had been Sam, all the way, who had dragged him here. Eric felt ashamed, but it was like that. Roger was to him no longer a fellow boy, not even human. He had become the object of all his fears. He had become Eric's personal beast. 

It had not been that single night of four years ago. It was much, much more – even though that was where it had begun. That night, Roger had picked one of them, not at random, no, but because he thought that Eric was the weaker one of the pair. And of course he was. And he had dragged away the screaming, horrified boy, together with another one. Another one, someone that Eric wished very much he had not known, but he had. It had, of course, been Jack. He couldn't, not even in his mind, repeat that night. But it had been a night that had made him want to follow Piggy's path, Simon's path... 

__

Stop.. just stop.. stop thinking.. God.. make me stop.. 

He tried to retch once more, trying to empty himself, when there was nothing more.. 

A figure.. no.. he did not want... 

Him. Oh yes.. it was ...him. 

A dark figure hovering over him.. light.. yes, surrounded by light.. his ...saviour..

You. You can... end it. You have the mercy..

Oh god.. he threw over again, with searing pain..

With the mercy of ending it...

Something was placed over his.. his face... something cool.. something solid... his thoughts stopped racing at once. Stillness settled over him, finally, like a grave. And a voice, a voice of power out of darkness...

"You have done good. You shall be hunter now, a hunter among hunters"...

And Eric had worn it, that day, the hunter's mask, and every day following that day. Behind it.. behind it was the only place where he was not Eric any more. He was hunter, among hunters. 

The boy was overcome with memories, wanting to retreat further from Roger. He wanted to hide from Sam, wanted to hide his face on Sam's shoulder, he wanted to forget. He wanted to bite his lip until it bled, to scream.. but he was still, as if he was the one tied up. 

Roger could nearly feel the fear that was emanating from Eric's corner. He had always, easily, been able to know who was who of the pair. Roger felt, close, very close to his prey. He did not usually open up to people, most of the time they didn't even interest him at all. He felt remote, very remote. But there was always the strong, intimate bond of pain. Pain and fear were his links to his victims, and nothing could ever sever them. There was nothing that could betray it. Pain was truth. Jack might deceive him, might leave and turn away, but Eric wouldn't. Eric was his, and there was no way this could ever change again. Roger had made that sure. 

There was really nothing special about Eric, he was just another weak human. But that made him so lovely. Lovely because he was just like all of them, just normal, just human... It was the only pleasure in this otherwise terrible situation, to have, of all people, Eric as his guard. Even in his defeat, he could always admire his triumph. 

Why? Why did Jack not see the glory any more? Had Roger really been so wrong, when he dad thought that Jack could see it, too? He had seen his eyes blaze with it, every time he killed... and Jack had been the only one, ever, with whom he had shared his victims, and the feeling. It had been something greatly intimate, nobody else had ever been allowed to see it. And had Jack not enjoyed it? Didn't he laugh with delight at Roger's masterful way of bringing Eric to betray Ralph? And his look, his look when Roger hand shown him the stick sharpened at two ends...

It had been theirs, theirs only, and they had been free, and powerful and ...

No. He couldn't have been deceived by his feelings. Jack had been like that. But he had changed. After years spent free of the confinement and boundaries of civilisation and moral, he had in the end shied away from the freedom, intimidated by it's greatness, and had crawled back to the shelter of rules and votes, that only the weak ones really needed. Why? Jack had been strong! He didn't need the rules! But those, who want to protect the weak, they also need the rules...

Roger eyed Eric once more. He had believed that Ralph was to Jack, what Eric was to him: his prey, his victim, his trophy. But he would never let himself be influenced by Eric – because Eric wasn't even able to influence him. He had made that sure. Of course it may seem neat and exciting to keep a strong prey as your trophy. But it is better to kill the strong one's, and it is even vital to kill the cunning one's, such as Ralph ... The hunter has to be stronger than his prey. The weak are meant to be preyed on..


	14. Chief of Liars

Note: I split this and the last chapter, so this is a double update. 

@Mistostrap: I have taken English for six years, it is my first foreign language. I also have French and Latin and know some words Japanese. But I think most of the English (besides the basics) I have learned by reading, especially reading fanfiction. I recommend it to all teachers! Make your pupils read fanfiction! Sadly, I am now way beyond the expected level of English, so class is **very** boring, even though I love the subject and like the teacher. 

Thanks for r&r ! 

14 Chief of Liars 

As the sun rose palely above the horizon it became clear that the day was going to be hot, humid and it would rain, soon. Boys were filing in. Gathering at the new meeting place, they threw wary glances at the sky as well as Jack and Ralph, who were sitting silently, with stony expressions, on their boulder. Finally, Jack raised his voice. 

"Today we will have a meeting to decide about Roger's case."

They were gaping at him, blinking, some whispering with hushed voices. What they knew was, that Roger had missed the last meeting, as well as Samneric, that he was cruel and that he was nobody's friend but Jack's. So what was going on? The way Jack said his name meant no good. 

"Where is he, anyway?" Maurice looked questioningly at Jack. He was one of the few who didn't call him chief all the time, and who dared to interrupt him. Jack didn't answer directly.

"Samneric!" he finally shouted above their heads.

"Bring him!"

Samneric came walking, Roger between them, armed with spears. Roger was walking upright and looked at no one in particular, somehow managing to keep his dignity intact despite being bound and full of bruises and dried blood. It even made him seem more remote and intimidating than before. The boys sat silent, in utter amazement, staring open-mouthed at the three. 

The twins brought him to the centre of the gathering, in front of Jack. For once they didn't look identical. Sam's face was flushed with agitation and excitement, and in turn grinning sheepishly at the boys and looking seriously dark at Roger. But Eric's face was ashen, his eyes as cold and remote as Roger's, his bearing rigid. 

"Roger is here to have his trial," Jack explained with a firm voice.

"He is accused of breaking the law, because he tried to kill, and he has hurt another member of the tribe."

"He tried to.."

".. he killed.."

"Roger has.."

"Who did he try to kill?" 

"Me." Their eyes fell on Ralph, who had spoken softly and solemnly, yet everyone had heard him. Roger didn't say anything. His stare had settled on Jack, who, too, was looking at Ralph. 

"The night of the feast he tried to kill me. He followed me into the forest and waited until we were alone, then he tried to kill me with his spear. You can still see the cut." He gestured to his chest. He said the words without emotion, like he had learned them by heart. 

"But I saw it and stopped Roger. We have kept him as a prisoner until today. Today we'll decide what shall happen to him. Has anyone got to say something?"

In the beginning, Jack had believed it would be difficult to give away some of his power, to let them decide things. But in truth it was also a lot easier than having to everything yourself. 

People were whispering, but then suddenly Sam spoke up, throwing a last glance at Eric.

"Yes. I want add something! He hasn't only hurt Ralph! There have been.." but he was interrupted by a storm of other voices.

"Yes!"

"Roger has hurt other too.."

"He has thrown stones.."

"He has kicked me..."

"Roger is mean! He ..."

Jack raised his hands impatiently. 

"Let Sam speak!" Sam nodded thankfully.

"He has hurt a lot of us, hasn't he? Tell him, Eric. Tell him what he did." 

Ralph raised his gaze and frowned. His eyes rested on Sam, trying to decide when and how he had changed. Had it always been there, this firm and decided seriousness? Or was it new, maybe grown out of the care for his twin? And what was he talking about? He turned towards Eric. 

Eric's eyes were wide with .. betrayal? It made no sense, but his staring gaze seemed to burn with betrayal as he looked at his twin. His skin was chalk, sweaty, sick chalk. Between them stood Roger, motionless, still looking in Jack's direction, an ever so small smile lurking on his face. Jack became impatient.

"So what is it?" he asked demandingly. "Or can we go on now? Eric?" The boy's gaze flickered to his leader, and back to his twin. 

"N.. nothing," he croaked. 

"Eric!" gasped Sam. "This isn't true! You have to tell them! This is our chance for revenge!"

Slowly it Ralph ban to understand. A dark memory, buried under even darker ones came to the surface. He, hiding in the night, under ferns and grass, chewing at cold meat, and listening to cries that were faintly echoing in the darkness of Castle Rock. This was, what Sam was talking about, he was sure. The night Roger had made them turn in Ralph's secret hiding. And now Sam wanted his twin – who obviously had been the one Roger had tortured – to tell everyone. But Eric didn't want to. Why? Oh, but Ralph understood. Eric was ashamed. He himself felt ashamed when he thought of that night in the forest. 

"Let him go, Sam." 

"But –" 

"Let him go." He made a step towards Eric, carefully avoiding Roger. 

"Eric. Don't worry, you don't have to tell us. I know of that night. It's alright. I don't blame you. I never did." Eric's eyes, red and puffy, became watery. He moved his lips without making a sound. 

Ralph glanced at Roger, with venom. 

"It's over now. Nobody will blame you, Eric, nobody will hurt you. Just answer me, yes? Did Roger hurt you?" He and Sam smiled at Eric, and Jack nodded, although he seemed stiff and uneasy. 

"No," Eric breathed. 

"What?"

"No!" he cried at the top of his voice and trembling. 

"Roger never hurt me! Roger never hurt me! It's a lie! You're a liar!" Everyone was troubled now, shifting and looking uneasy. Only Roger stood silently at Eric's side, smiling to himself. 

"You are a liar!" Eric hurled at a perplex Ralph and suddenly rushed forward, trying to tackle the fair boy. Sam tried to hold him back but without even noticing his twin he pushed him aside and his fist contacted Ralph jaw. Ralph stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. The same moment Jack punched Eric, who took the blow and ignored it, rushing forward again, receiving another blow. His nose and mouth were bleeding, tears were running down his ashen face.

Ralph held his aching cheek and watched the turmoil. The trial seemed to end in a mess. 

"Stop it!" he shouted at them. Nobody noticed him but Roger, who send him a cold sneer. 

He jumped up and seized Jacks arm, nearly receiving a blow himself. 

"Stop it, Jack. We have to do this reasonably, remember?" Jack grunted but tried to relax.

"You okay?" he asked gruffly. Ralph nodded in affirmation. They both looked at Eric, who had collapsed on the ground at Roger's feet. Sam was also slightly bleeding, from where Eric's fist had hit his lip. He looked hurt, and puzzled and also hateful at Roger's back. Jack groaned very lightly and turned to the other people.

"Well... now we know what Roger did, what d you think should be his punishment?"

Nobody answered their chief. This was way more than they could handle. 

"He deserves death," spit Sam. Jack shook his head.

"Maybe, but we agreed that nobody shall be killed anymore."

"But he is dangerous! He'll do it again!"

"We could ban him," some former littlun suggested.

"And where to? This is an island, forget?" asked Maurice. "But there seems to be only one alternative, and that is holding him as a captive," he added with a more thoughtful voice.

Ralph nodded. This was also his opinion. 

"But where?" 

"We could build a prison-hut!"

"No that's –" 

"We could –"

"Let's use the cave at Castle Rock!"

"Some has to –"

Jack waved his hands.

"The cave? That's a good idea." 

"We'd have to block the entrance.. it's pretty big," said Ralph doubtingly. 

"No, there is another one, a smaller one, we discovered it while you were ... it would be easy to block the entrance with some wood."

Everyone was listening to Jack's idea but Sam and Eric. Eric still crouched by Roger's feet, his hands clawing the sandy earth where blood was dripping down on it. And Sam stood behind Roger and his twin, his expression bitter and dark. Ralph felt bad for them. He held no grudge for the twins, instead he had always liked them and admired them for being two of the last one's who didn't join the tribe. They might not be very independent, but they were loyal and normally very nice. And now they looked shattered, no longer innocent. Of course... it would have been an idle illusion to think they had been innocent before. They hadn't been innocent when they had killed Simon, they had lost their innocence that night... but what had happened? Roger was bad, but how bad was he? Eric appeared to have changed so thoroughly ..

"Well then! Who thinks that Roger should from now on be held captive, that two of us will bring him food and water every day and control his prison, should raise his hand," Jack said loudly. They looked at each other and everyone raised their hands. Only Sam, Eric and Roger kept theirs down. 

"Alright then! Maurice, Johnny, Harold and I will build the prison. Robert, Henry, you will take Roger back to the hut and make sure he doesn't try to escape."

He already smiled, happy to have the matter finally settled, when unexpectedly, for the first time, Roger spoke up. He sounded harsh and rough, like someone who hasn't talked for days, and his voice rang with contempt.

"Very good, my chief. You have done it, you have judged me, like your lapdog wanted you to. That is, if he really is your lapdog and not the other way round. Now you can go home and be happy, a happy liar. What is this? Justice? Is it justice, when the murderer judges the murderer? I tell you, something. Your justice is crap. All this voting is crap. How come you all of the sudden are so civilised? You were hunters! You ran with the pack, you threw stones when I threw stones, you made fire when I smoked out Ralph, you never complained! And you Chief, you are the worst of them all." He made a pause and looked at no one in the dumbfounded crowd but Jack . His eyes were cold like a fish's eyes. 

" I thought you were a good leader. But you are worse even than Ralph is. Yes, I tortured Eric! I tortured the moron! And who stood beside me and laughed? Who told me not to let go? Who kicked him when he was not able to move or speak? Who patted me on the back with a grin afterwards? And who stood, not saying a word, in front of this 'trial', playing 'judge', and asked Eric : 'What did he do?'. You are a liar and a chief of liars!"

And with that he turned around and never looked at Jack again. Jack was frozen and remained so, until Ralph waved for Robert and Henry to take Roger back to the hut. When they had done this, Jack suddenly started to walk, briskly and without looking at anybody, until he was out of sight. 


	15. Frenzy

Note: I know I always write too much dialogue, but I really love writing it! It's the direct way to express any feelings, opinions or reasons. Of course actions show more than words do...

And then: Roger, the twins, and the age problem! ;) Yes, I think Roger might have molested Eric, but if so, than only in recent (in terms of the story) times. It is said nowhere how old they are, but they are all biguns. Ralph is sixteen by now, and I thought that they might be about a year younger than him. Roger is (in his own twisted way) quite mature for his age, even in the book. That would make them about fifteen. I know it's really damn young... but they are in a special situation. Look at Ralph! No teen in a normal environment would be like him. 

Thank you all so much! I never ever received so much feedback for fan fiction as here! 

15 Frenzy

Ralph's lungs and feet were screaming, his head throbbing loudly with his pulse. Yet he could not stop running, stumbling over creepers and thorns, scratching his legs. His dry throat burned. The heat and moisture in the air was unbearable. Suddenly he tripped over something and crashed head first into a thicket. Panting he lay on the ground, tasting sweat, sand and blood. A sound like rumbling stones was in the air. He realised that he had long ago lost Jack, that he didn't even know where he was, or how long he had tried to catch up with the red-haired boy. 

Slowly his senses were coming back to him, and when he turned around with a groan to lay on his back, he saw that the sky was rapidly darkening. Giant cloud-towers were clustering above the island, promising a tropic rainstorm. The fantastic formations had an unreal quality to them, like something out of a grotesque nightmare. Like living beings they were swelling across the sky, captivating Ralph. Sweaty and panting he tried to grasp reality, but it was shifty like the sand. His face was glowing. 

__

This place is evil... this place is full of evil... it can't be real.. it nearly made you believe... but you know better, don't you... it is evil...don't let it get you.. don't let it take the reason away...

With a strangled noise he jerked into a sitting position. His head was spinning. Anxiously he looked at the sky. But what had been full of twisted faces was now just a growing tempest. He rubbed his temples. For days he hadn't thought about what was real and what not. He had just lived, without thinking at all. And suddenly the only thing that seemed unreal and unbelievable was the thought that this all should not be real. Damn, he had no time for this! Jack. He had to find Jack. He scrambled to his feet and looked around. 

He decided he was halfway down the mountain, on the beach-side of the island, rather near the place where the feast had taken place. If he walked further down, he would come out at the beach, if he turned a little bit to the left, it would lead him to Castle Rock. He decided to go to the beach first, and then turn left if he didn't find Jack. 

When he broke out of the forest he found that he was closer to Castle Rock than he had thought. And, to his surprise, he could see Jack, walking some hundred metres in front of him.

"Jack!" he shouted against the wind that was blowing roughly at the shore. The broad back didn't turn around. 

"Jack!" he repeated breathlessly. Jack stopped and looked over his shoulder. Then he walked on, even faster. Ralph began to run, sliding and slithering in the sand. A harsh wind was whipping salty air against his face. The salt was biting the scratches on his legs and arms, making him wince with every step. 

"Jack!" he panted and finally caught up, throwing himself desperately at the taller boy. They staggered and finally dashed into the water. Jack tried half-heartedly to wrestle himself free, but Ralph clang to him with an angry cry.

"Jack! Stop it-"

"Why? Why are you following me? Didn't you hear Roger? He's right about me!"

"I know that he is right! I knew it all along!" yelled Ralph.

They stopped, gasping, letting the small waves brush against their bodies. Jack looked bitterly into the direction of Castle Rock. 

"I'm ...I'm a liar! I always was. I lied to you, and everyone, from the first day on. I lied when I said that I wanted to kill that pig... remember that? The very first day.. you, and me, and Simon... We could have been so happy. But I had to lie. I wanted to.. to be what I was not. You were so confident, and I knew that I could never be like that... but I lied to myself. I lied until I believed myself..."

Ralph sighed. He had long ago understood this part of Jack. Like most people that doubted their own strength, he tried to hide that behind a mask of rudeness and self-confidence.

"Yes... I know that," he answered.

"You..?"

"Jack. We are all liars. I lied to myself for four years. We all lied to ourselves. I'm sure Roger lies to himself, too. It's the way we survive." He tried a smile. But Jack only shook his head. Another rumbling thunder was heard.

"It's not the lies...," Jack whispered, barely audible beneath the noise. "It's the truth." Ralph's smile vanished, and was replaced by a quiet sadness. He nodded gravely.

"The truth is always..."

"Don't you talk to me about the truth!" Jack yelled. Ralph was taken aback.

"Jack –" 

"You! You don't know what the truth is! You.. you think this is all a dream! It is not! It is real! I am real! My deeds are real! " Jack was getting really irritated. The words were splattering from his mouth on their own accord. 

" You tell me you forgive me, but you don't! You don't care, that's it! For you it's just some... some delusion! But if it were real... if it were real ..."

"It is – "

"If it were real you wouldn't follow me! If it were real you would be scared or angry or... you'd hate me! Run, Ralph! Run! Because it is real."

"It is real."

There was a pause, where neither of the pair was able to process the said words.

Ralph tried to catch Jack's gaze. 

"It is real," he repeated, really slow. "I... I also lied to myself, didn't I tell you just now? I realised that... now.. I lied. I lied to myself to survive. Lies are like shields.. I mean.. but sometimes.. sometimes you have to give them up, you have to face the truth.. to survive. And I do face it now. I don't face it, because it is beautiful – what it is – or because I love you – what I do – or because we managed to make it better and more just... I face it, because it is cruel and wrong, worse than I could ever imagine. You see? If this was a dream... then why would you do such a thing? This is real... because you did such things. I know you can do them. We all can, I guess... but I didn't have to think very long. I know that I can live with that. I can forgive you, for all the things you did to me. And if I can do that.. I can also forgive the world.. for being like it is. Real." His last words had left him as whispers, teary whispers, his eyes burning. 

He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Jack's trembling body. Strong arms returned the embrace twice as hard, and callous fingers clawed into his back. 

"But you, Jack.. you have to forget, if you want to go on..."

"If I want to go on..." Jack repeated numbly. 

"Because everyone needs you... it's hard, I know.. you want to throw it all away, to run.. but they need you.. I need you..," Ralph whispered into his lover's ear. 

Jack buried his head on Ralph's shoulder. He felt not nearly as soothed as he should have. He felt weak, and raw and angry. He could no longer deny it. Ralph had really forgiven him, there was no reason to push him away. But his heart raged. How could Ralph be like this? Soft and just and compassionate.. but he wanted to be condemned.. His hands roamed over Ralph's lean, warm back, aimlessly, until he found the wet hair, and began dragging at it, and then started kissing the boy. 

His motions were harsh and jagged as they toppled over into the sand and foamy water. Ralph only clung to him. He didn't complain, or respond with more than a few, feeble kisses. Jack didn't care. He wanted to punch something, to kill something, but instead he kissed, he touched, he tore, just to forget as Ralph had told him to do. They rolled across the sand, and in the water, their voices drowned by the storm. The white sand coated their wet bodies, salt water and sweat, and the stormy sky was still compared to their minds. 

Jack was in a frenzy, but not a lovely elated one like the day before. He was horribly sad, and angry and desperate, and feeling as primal as never before – and at the same time strangely separated from himself. It all centred on the cause of his anguish. Ralph was in his arms like a puppet. It seemed like all his rage couldn't reach him, and some part of Jack, that tiny little part that was only a whisperer, was glad about it. Because he knew he wasn't gentle, and he knew Ralph didn't deserve it, least of all people. 

They lay spent, now in the dry sand, and the first heavy drops of rain started to fall on them. As the rain became harder and the storm howled along the beach, the sky in thunder-grey turmoil, they slowly calmed down. Jack breathing became even. 

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice like a murmur compared to the storm. The boy in his arms looked terribly weary despite the red glow of his face. His skin was covered in small scratches and bruises. Not all of these were inflicted by him, but some.

"Don't be," answered Ralph, the words only comprehensive by the moves of his lips. He felt bruised and burning all over his body, and now he started to get cold. At least the rain was washing the salt from the cuts. His body ached dully, but the exhaustion and cold was worse. 

Jack closed his eyes. 

"Thank you," he said without sound, but he meant it. Then he sat up and shielded his eyes with his hand. There was no end to the dark storm and they needed a shelter. He lifted Ralph to his knees, but the fair boy swayed. Without asking Jack lifted him into his arms and began staggering along the beach towards Castle Rock. 


	16. First Light Of Morning

Note: * whee * The last chapter!! It had to end someday... trust me, it wasn't easy to let go (well, I don't have to let go of LOTF – we're watching the 63 movie and I still have fanfiction to read!). There might be an epilogue, but I'm not sure. I let some things open, because that's how I wanted them to remain, they're the questions I don't dare to answer, such as... well read it after the END!

16 First Light Of Morning 

Ralph woke to a sight that was familiar, but he couldn't place it. Red-orange shapes dancing on a black, rough surface. The flickering shadows were dazing, as was the damp and exhausted feeling of his body, the material on which he was laying, the muted howling sounds. 

__

The sparkling fire was casting long shadows on the walls and ceiling of the spacious cave. Ralph lay on his thin mattress of straw, as quietly as possible. It was like a nightmare when you have recognised it as one: you know it is not real, and yet you fear it. 

Jack and Roger had returned together. They hadn't been alone though. The twins were with them. They prepared the meat for Roger and their chief, and then they ate together, talking excitedly about something... Ralph couldn't really concentrate on it. 

"We'll see you tomorrow," one of the twins said. They stood up, but suddenly Roger pulled one of them back, so roughly he fell on his knees. The fallen one said nothing, but the one still standing made a move towards Roger. 

"He stays here," Roger stated.

"But –"

"Haven't you heard Roger?"

"He.. yes, my chief," the twin answered, and left reluctantly, grinding his teeth. Ralph saw all this through half closed lids. The left twin remained crouched on the ground.

"Good boy," Roger said. Jack snorted. Ralph wondered who was meant with that.

"See, I've trained him quite well," Roger said. They sniggered. Trained? Did they have a pet now? This island was madness. But Ralph was intrigued. He opened his eyes further. 

"Why about him? Why don't you train him?"

"He's batty. Tried to, but it's no use."

"Well, you could let me.."

"I said no, Roger," Jack answered, sounding the least bit irritated.

"Then why keep him?" 

Ralph understood. He was meant. 

"I do what I want to do!" Jack said proudly. 

"How sweet..," Roger teased. "You spare the little loony..."

"Shut up!" Jack barked. 

"Your loss." Roger grabbed the kneeling boy by his neck and shook him roughly. 

"Water," he snarled. 

The twin staggered to the end of the cave to fetch some. He came close to Ralph, but didn't look at him. Ralph noticed purple bruises on him. Roger snatched the water from the twin and gulped it down. 

"But he doesn't only fetch water. Want to see?"

"Sure," Jack said gruffly. 

"Have you heard him, Eric? Your chief wants to be entertained by us. Why don't you show him something?" Roger's eyes darted around the room and Ralph wished to melt with the ground.

"Eric, take that coal. No, not that one. The red one."

"But I haven't –"

"Do it!"

"It's burning!" Roger jumped to his feet and kicked the boy angrily. 

"I told you to pick up that piece of coal! Why haven't you picked it up?" Jack sat in a comfortable sprawl, looking highly amused.

"Do it, Eric," Roger hissed. Eric complied. He reached out with a trembling hand, wincing when he came into contact with the still live coal. He started to sob and wail, but he lifted it out of the fire. Ralph lay frozen, his eyes wide.

"Keep it!"

Screaming. Roger grabbed Eric's hair and stared into his eyes. The boy made a sound that was so horrible that Ralph felt like his hart was ripped out of him. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried no to hear the laughing and these sickening screams. 

"Ralph?"

Jack bent over him and lightly touched his shoulder. He was tired himself, but Ralph looked awful. His face was pallid and twisted by fear. He blinked slowly. Small droplets of sweat were running down his forehead. 

"Wake up," Jack said as gently as possible. He wanted to make up for his earlier behaviour, wanted to thank Ralph and ask for his forgiveness. Ralph's words seemed right and very welcome now. He wanted to hear them again. _You have to forget. _

Slowly Ralph turned his head and looked at him. His eyes were voids. Then he shook his head lightly. 

"Jack," he rasped and sat up. "We're at Castle Rock?" Jack nodded eagerly. Ralph looked around. He drew his knees to his chest and shivered. 

"It's cold."

"There's still that storm..."

"Huh."

A small fire was burning near them, Jack had lit it with the remains of the old fire that had burned here when this had been the Chief's residence during their early days. Ralph recalled the day's events and now understood the dull ache in many parts of his body, as well as Jack's uneasy looks. But these things seemed already faraway. Another memory was for more vivid now. Old images, suppressed for a long time, were floating at the edges of his consciousness. He rubbed his temples. He felt strange, glowing. 

"Batty," he whispered. Jack looked concerned. Ralph gazed intently at him. There were things one had to forget... but some things you can't forget... you better not forget... He crawled over to the taller boy, who was sitting on his heels. Their faces were close.

When did he change so much? When did he learn to care? He touched Jacks cheek and let his hand sink down again.

"I had a dream, just now... did you know that I had forgotten a lot of these last four years? I just didn't want to know it. But here... I think I remembered an evening in this cave, with you, and Roger.. and Eric." Jack sucked in a noisy breath. Ralph's frown was pained. "How much did you know about Roger and Eric?"

Jack looked to the ground. 

"You knew it all along.. from the very first night... you knew it continued? You knew and tolerated that Roger tormented Eric without any reason? You knew it all the years.. while we were together, you knew that.. you knew it when you beat up Roger... didn't you care? Or do you only care for me?"

Silence, the silence of rain and wind and cracking fire. They stared at each other. 

"Please Jack. Don't you feel anything for Eric?"

The red hair fell into Jack's face as he dropped his head further. His cheeks burned hotly, as did his eyes. 

"I didn't .." he choked. Then he raised his head stubbornly. His freckled face was tense and twisted. 

"What about you? You knew it as well... but you were a madman, you didn't have to care! For you it's okay to just forget, but for me it's not?" He regretted the words even while he said them. Ralph blinked in shock. 

"Are you saying I forgot because I'm a coward?" he asked hollowly. He stared into the half-light of the cave. 

"I hate this. I'd like to hit you now, you know that?" 

"Do it," Jack huffed.

"Do you feel bad for what you did then?" he asked quietly, ignoring the stupid request.

"Not for all of it," it came defiantly.

"For what, then?"

"For never listening to you. For hunting you."

"Nothing else?"

"For killing Simon," he admitted.

"Nothing else?" Jack looked desperate.

"I don't feel sorry for killing Fatty, if that's what you want. I mean, I know it was wrong and I shouldn't have done it, but I didn't tell Roger to kill him. It wasn't me. And I didn't like him, no matter what happened." Ralph said nothing and looked to the ground. He hadn't forgotten his feelings. He hadn't liked Piggy as well, but in the end...

"But everything was different, then! We were all so... the longer we were here, the more it felt right to do what I did. The lesser I thought about what I did, the lesser I cared, the lesser I thought at all. Everything felt like dancing and singing and hunting, totally right, totally great. But with time these things became trivial. They have lost their glamour.. they seem stupid like children's play now. Other things began to matter... you...," Jack's gaze had become so intense Ralph couldn't avoid it any longer. 

Jack found that Ralph looked almost old for his age, his face exhausted and worn out by years of strain and sorrow. Despite his youth and softness he seemed somehow jaded, as if his body was only carried by his will and not it's own strength. It made his own distress seem irrelevant, and he longed to just take him into his arms and hold him. He knew, in this moment, that he could never bear to loose Ralph's affection. 

"But you couldn't bring myself to end it. You just couldn't. If you had done that, you would have admitted that you had been wrong. You'd have had to explain – to face them...You thought it was okay! You thought you all were okay the way it was, so why change it?" Jack nodded. 

He felt still raw and bitter, still downcast. He knew he loved Jack, no matter what he was, but love didn't feel as stainless as it once had. It did feel quite real now. He put his arms around Jack's still body and kissed him on the lips. Jack didn't respond. They looked each other in the eyes. 

"You've changed. I really hope so.. I believe it. You will not do such things again," Ralph said very softly, lips brushing against lips. A command, a question, a promise, an invocation. Slowly Jack put his arms around Ralph.

*

They slept like this for hours, pressed against each other, dreamless. The warmth of their bodies made the dampness and cold go away, their breathing slow and steady. The fire burned down and the storm ceased to blow. In the morning, before the first light silence was peaceful as ever. 

They were already awake for some time, listening to the silence and twilight. Then Ralph sat up, freeing himself from the firm embrace and left the cave for some minutes. Jack got up as well. 

"The storm is gone," remarked Ralph when he came back. "Hopefully nobody's been hurt. Do we have good shelters these days?" Jack nodded. 

"Do you think Eric will be alright?" he asked and sounded almost anxious. Ralph would have liked to believe he was feeling bad for the twins, but he rather thought not. Probably it was a more selfish reason... but you often have selfish reasons for wishing others well. He shrugged and leaned against a rock. 

"I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "He'll need some time, I guess. If he stays away from Roger... maybe he'll one day recover. But... I think what he lived through was worse than what I.. if you understand." He looked away, to the dead fire. "Eric's not as strong as I am." Was he strong? The words had slipped so easily.. But he wasn't. If he had been strong he would never have forgotten these things. If he had been strong, he would have helped Eric then and there. 

"And if he doesn't?" 

Ralph sighed and looked sadly at Jack. "You'll have to live with that. What we do... is forever. Some things are forgiven... some are not." 

"We better get going and look for the others," Jack replied, not knowing what else to say. Ralph nodded. They left the cave and Castle Rock, and when they passed the place where Ralph and his few friends had once stood to face the tribe, Ralph stopped. 

"There's something I've got to do," he said quietly. He looked around and then went for the forest and thickets. He picked flowers on his way, placing them solemnly in a bunch. A calming, soothing thing to do. He chose small one's, even some of the white buds that made him recall a light and excited voice, telling him that they looked like candles.. He returned with them, walking on until he reached small cliff where Piggy had fallen to death. He looked down at the square rock between the waves, trying not to picture the broken body on it. Then he raised his eyes to look at the horizon, at the splendid new sun that was spreading it's light on a clean washed sky. He still held the flowers in his hand, not yet willing to let them go.

Jack stayed silently behind. He knew that Ralph needed to be alone, that he had no right to take part in this. The fair boy stood very lonely on the edge of the cliff, tall and delicate. The remains of clothes were playing softly around his body in the morning breeze, his long hair dancing in the wind. Almost slowly the flowers descended into the ocean. 

After a long time he turned around. His face was glistening. He wiped the tears away, and walked back to Jack. Wordless they left the place behind, glad to leave it. 

And in the first light of morning they made their way through the white sand, the shimmering waves stretching endlessly before them. Paradise was where they were, peaceful and radiant after the storm as it had never been before. Softly the palm trees were swinging in the breeze, a fresh smell of earth and plants came from the forest. Everything was full of promises. 

Ralph was walking some feet before Jack, his face against the fresh current, breathing the day's beauty. His head was full of thoughts about good and evil, of sadness and joy. He felt incredibly alive, unable to believe in something like 'evil'. There was no such thing. Things were just what they were, neither good nor evil, but beautiful in their own right. He wanted to stay where he was. 

__

I have come to a conclusion...

This is the only reality I have. So I will live it... 

Maybe it was not a bad one. Maybe it was not necessary to leave it, it was good to stay here. Because they had found their way..

Jack wanted to say something, but Ralph seemed so remote, so far away, as he walked on the beach. He seemed to be lost in thought, totally alone in the world. He just had bidden farewell to his killed friends, and maybe he was alone, totally alone in the entire world now. Jack wanted to be his friend. Not only to love him, but to be his friend. Ralph should never be lonely. For him he desperately wanted to undo what he had done. Around this person all the shining possessions lost their glamour. He was the only thing he really feared to lose. Suddenly the fair boy turned around. His eyes were bright and shining with life, looking directly into Jack's. 

"We're saved," Ralph said. Jack blinked in confusion at this strange déjà-vu. He made a move to say something, but Ralph laughed lightly, freeing himself from the burden of his emotions. His voice sounded ever so clearly, unblemished like a child's voice, but steady like a man's. He danced in the sand, feeling ever so light, so relieved...

"We're saved, Jack," he repeated and flung himself into Jack's arms. "We've saved ourselves. We're finally saved...."

And in the brilliant morning sun the two boys walked along the beach, happy to be alive and alright with the world. 

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

Well, that's it! The END. A happy one, of course. This ends where it begins.. As I said before, this story is somehow like an answer to the way the world was painted in LOTF. I don't know if there really is hope, myself, and I often doubt it. That's why I didn't tell what will happen to Eric, or if the prison will work for Roger. Things are never totally alright, but for Jack and Ralph they are, for now at least. Maybe one day I'll write another piece for LOTF. I was rather pleased with this one. It was still major angst (Am I able to write anything else??) but it had a plot and action. 

Thanks everyone for reviewing! You're the BEST! J 


End file.
